Ray began feeling sick about 7 a.m. last Sept. 11. By noon, the aching emptiness in his belly was bad enough for a rushed visit to his doctor.

        The troubled look on the doctor's face said it all. Ray left with some strong pain pills and a referral to a specialist.

        That's how Ray learned his life was fast approaching a deadline.

        The 58-year-old Milford father of two was told later that he has pancreatic cancer, a disease with low odds for survival but a high probability for pain and suffering.

        It's rare but deadly: Each year, 29,000 Americans are diagnosed with the disease, and about that number die of it.

        Ray was told he'd be one of the “lucky” ones — he was among the 9 percent who qualified for a surgery that could give him a few more months or years of life.

        Surgeons removed half of his pancreas, stomach and intestines. He spent 17 days in the hospital.

        “My chance of being alive a year from now is 20 percent,” he told me recently. “Five years, it's 4 percent. Not the best odds, but I refuse to allow myself to become bitter.”

Trying to heal

        Ray found a way to cope as he noted the nation's recovery from terrorism.

        “Throughout all of my painful and long recovery, I kept one thought in mind: At least I didn't have to leap from the 108th story of the World Trade Center,” Ray says.

        “At least I have time to say my goodbyes and mend some of the sibling differences that have occurred over the years.”

        Ray recalled the day after surgery, how his 18-year-old son stood by his bed looking frightened. Ray had felt so depressed; he'd almost given up.

        Then his son whispered, “I caused this ... didn't I, Dad?”

        Ray started remembering the times he and his teenage son had argued, when he'd said in frustration, “You're going to send me to an early grave!”

        Ray cried and shook his head, resolving to make it through, to help his son.

        “Something inside of me changed that instant,” he said. “Perhaps it was some instinctual parental urge to protect.”

        He told his son he wasn't the cause of his cancer; life was. He made him promise to never feel regret about their relationship.

        Then, in the following months, they talked about feelings and their troubles.

        “We're closer now than we've ever been.”

Sharing a journey

        Ray shares his personal experiences with dozens of other pancreatic cancer victims. So far, he's published eight chapters via an on-line chat group.

        An aircraft engine repair worker, Ray calls himself the Forrest Gump of the message board, joking about his limited education and simple talk.

        “I find that people from all over the world are writing me and telling me what an inspiration I have been to them,” he said.

        “I have long-lost friends who visit and tell me they love me. My estranged older brother and I are in the process of healing old wounds.”

        He's feeling better most days than he did in the hospital.

        His surgeon guaranteed him only 12 months, post-surgery. The rest is anyone's guess. Ray says he's “dancing to the rhythms of life,” trying to prepare for when it ends.

        He thinks of the Sept. 11th victims and realizes he's lucky he can do that.

        “You generally choose how to live your life, but life often doesn't give you the chance to choose how to step off the stage. You only have a choice about how you respond to that.”

        E-mail damos@enquirer.com or phone 768-8395.

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