Why I Keep the Mic On

April 21, 2017. That’s the day everything changed. One moment I was juggling a normal day—work, family, life—and the next, I was being rushed into emergency brain surgery with a testicular cancer diagnosis that had spread to my lungs, lymph nodes, and brain (26 tumors, in all). When my wife, Leigh Anne, got the call, I was lying in bed, sick and confused—my brain clouded by a tumor I didn’t yet know was there. God already knew what we were facing, but we were just beginning to understand. By that afternoon, I was being rushed to IU Medical, where a team of specialists would take over. We had to make quick decisions—hard ones. Leigh Anne and I had to trust someone else to care for our kids so I could focus on surviving. It was chaos, it was terrifying, and it was real. I can still feel the weight of our first meeting with my oncologist. We obviously knew I had cancer, but could never imagine hearing the number twenty-six. Twenty-six tumors. The words landed like bricks. Leigh Anne and I sat there, stunned—trying to wrap our minds around a reality that suddenly felt too big to hold. 

But I’m still here. Eight years later, cancer-free and living with purpose. What started as my personal fight became something much bigger. Defied the Odds isn’t just a title—it’s a reminder of everything I went through, and everyone I met who’s walking their own hard road. I don’t sugarcoat anything on this podcast. I’ve been there—in the hospital bed, in the chemo chair, in the silence of 3 a.m. prayers. So when I sit down with guests, I listen with the kind of understanding you only gain from experience. This show is my way of giving hope a voice. If you’ve been knocked down and wondered if you’d ever get back up, I hope you’ll listen. You’re not alone—not even close.