What a Difference a Day Makes

(3-minute read)

Keywords: prostate cancer, chronic disease, Robert Frost

I woke up that morning thinking the day ahead would mark the long-awaited end of a chapter in my life.

After a decade of research and writing, I had finally finished the manuscript for the book that became Reforming Hollywood: How Protestants Fought for Freedom at the Movies.

While I was preparing to send the manuscript to my publisher, my office phone rang. Earlier I’d sent the book’s preface to James Wall, former editor of The Christian Century (1972-1999), asking him to double-check a quotation. During my research, Jim had not only made his personal papers and memories available to me, but connected me with other key players, including Jack Valenti, who was president of the Motion Picture Association of America for 38 years, from 1966 until 2004.

Author’s Photo. With MPAA President Jack Valenti, Washington, DC (2005).

While talking with Jim, I tweaked the quotation, saved the revised document, and then my mobile phone rang. I recognized the number; I had to take the call. Sensing something was wrong, Jim said, “Call me back.”

The conversation was as caring as it was brief and direct. What I remember are fragments, “results of your biopsy . . . unfortunately . . . cancerous . . . schedule more tests.”

In a flash, my world changed immediately and irrevocably. I had to tell myself to breath, overwhelmed as much by such an unexpected turn as the strange timing of it. What just happened? Such an uncanny coincidence, receiving an unsettling report at the very moment I was completing a project to which I’d just given so much of my life.

Feelings of dread disrupted my ordinary sense of perception and even reality. I sat there for a while in an eerie silence, motionless, my stare fixed on … nothing. My mind was racing ahead to the faces of people I love and having to share the news with them, while time seemed to be moving in slow motion. And then a thick cloud front darkened the sky. The papers on the desk in front of me glowed under the light of a desk lamp, drawing my attention back to the task at hand. Oh, yeah.

Getting it together – shit! – I finished attaching the chapters and sent the email off into cyberspace enroute to my editor at Oxford University Press. Done. But without the expected sense of relief and celebration.

Author’s Photo. With James M. Wall, Chicago (2008).

An email notification popped up on the computer screen: a concerned Jim Wall. I called him back. “At my age, I know a lot of guys with prostate cancer. This is probably the worst news you’re going to get,” he said, adding “Take notes.”

“Why? What d’ya mean?”

“You’re a writer,” he said. “You can get something out of this.”

I laughed out loud.

That evening, he emailed Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.” I put the final stanza to memory.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  

But I have promises to keep,  

And miles to go before I sleep,  

And miles to go before I sleep.

And so my saga began. What a difference a day makes.

A Postscript

It’s taken a good while for me to get to this place. The word cancer is emotionally charged. I learned early on that knowing I have cancer can change the way people think, and even look at me – their eyes betraying sadness, pity, or even fear. And so, I kept a low profile, remaining quiet about my chronic disease. But encouraged by some friends, I’m writing about my cancer experience. So long as there are willing listeners, I will tell my story in the hope that it might be of benefit to some.

William D. Romanowski is an award-winning commentator on the intersection of religion and popular culture and author of a number of books, including Reforming Hollywood: How Protestants Fought for Freedom at the Movies and Eyes Wide Open: Looking for God in Popular Culture. With his continuing commentary, he is trading footnotes for fiction, writing novels under the pen name (or nom de plume, as the French put it), Patmos Rhodes.