Walking his three collies used to be a chore for Tom Veit—pronounced “vite,” as in vital. Now it’s a treat.
This is what happens when you’re confronted by your mortality. Simple things become joyful things. Now Veit doesn’t postpone. “I enjoy everything, but if something bugs me, I change it.”
But before October 2006, Tom Veit postponed. He knew the blood in his stool was abnormal, but probably related to the irritable bowel syndrome he’d had most of his life.
“I didn’t look sick,” he recalls. “I was in overall good health.” But his wife, Lynette, to whom he refers as his soul mate and spiritual advisor, was “pestering” him to get a check-up. That led to a colonoscopy. When the doctor said, “We found something,” Veit assumed it was the IBS. The diagnosis was Stage IV colorectal cancer. Veit crumbled. “I was devastated,” he recalls about learning of the golf-ball size tumor growing into the rectal wall. “I held the belief that I was dying in spite of medical people telling me it wasn’t a death sentence.” For two weeks he had a hard time leaving his bedroom.
Being a district sales manager for a pharmaceutical company entailed a busy and not the healthiest of lifestyles, yet it connected Veit to the University of Colorado Denver, where he had customers in the Department of Otolaryngology.
“I chose the (University of Colorado) Cancer Center because I knew the university and the quality of the work being done there,” he says. “I did due diligence in researching who to see, and my friends helped me find Dr. (Ricardo) Gonzales, the surgeon, and Dr. (Colin) Weekes, who developed the treatment plan. They were up-to-date on the latest treatments. Even the scheduling people, nurses and the receptionists cared. I knew I was in good hands, and I knew I had to believe that I would get through this. You have to believe.”
Tom and Lynette Veit
Since the cancer was diagnosed and spread to his liver, Veit has undergone three surgeries, seven rounds of chemotherapy and 28 days of radiation therapy. During post-treatment checkups in September 2008 and in January 2009, he received clean bills of health. He is grateful to the medical team who stayed in constant contact with each other and with him during the ordeal.
“Everyone was on the same page and communicated with each other,” Veit recalls. “I didn’t have to repeat myself. I could get answers from any of them because they remembered what I’d told them. Dr. Weekes is the most astute listener I’ve ever met. His memory is insane.”
Even with the last two checkups indicating he’s cancer free, Veit assumes nothing. To him, fighting cancer is not only a physical battle but also a mental one. He continuously asks himself questions: “What if I quit my job now but live for another 25 years? What if I keep working but die in eight months?” For him, time so important because it is so uncertain. “I live my life in three-month cycles, which is when I get checkups.”
When the conversation turns from clinical topics to the lightness of hobbies, Veit reveals a lifelong passion: collecting timepieces. He agrees it’s an eerie coincidence. As his body rebuilds—he has gained back the weight he lost but has some nerve damage in his fingertips from the chemotherapy— Veit is also rebuilding his identity. “I want to be a better and more helpful person. I live every moment for what it is, because that moment will never occur again.”