‘I guess someone’s really been looking out for me.’

Steve Whitcomb is a 27-year-old dental student, a track athlete and a father of three with a bright future. But just two years ago he was diagnosed with advanced cancer. When Steve’s doctors said they couldn’t help him, the City of Hope stepped in with radical new techniques, and now, after months of chemotherapy and surgery, Steve is recovered. Last month he returned the favor by running a half-marathon and raising $11,000 for the City of Hope to use to help other cancer victims. Whitcomb was interviewed at his family’s home in El Cajon by Times staff writer Leslie Wolf and was photographed by Barbara Martin.

The type of cancer that I developed is called testicular cancer, and it strikes males between the ages of 25 and 35 years old. The theory is that it’s brought on by stress, and I was a prime candidate. When I was diagnosed I had two small children, my wife was pregnant with her third, and I was thinking about competing in the upcoming years--in fact, the Olympics was something way in the back of my mind.

I had been out of school two years and I went into business for myself, in the retail card and gift business. I was working the typical 15-hour day, seven days a week. I was just under tremendous stress.

Initially, when you go into a doctor and say you have abdominal pain, they don’t think cancer. Being at a young age, they first thought I had ulcers.

I went through a number of tests over the next four to six weeks before I finally was diagnosed, and by then it was in an advanced stage. Because of where it was situated in my abdomen, they essentially told me there was nothing they could do, because there was no surgical technique available or known at the time to get at that area.

I went to a number of different hospitals, checking about what could be done, and no one really had a technique. As a last chance I went to the City of Hope and that very same day they admitted me. The following day they started double-dose chemotherapy, knowing that it had to be attacked very aggressively. I had many complications--anything that could go wrong, it went wrong.

In September, 1987, they decided to perform surgery, and they took out my left kidney, pancreas, spleen and about a third of my stomach.

Now, there are certain foods that I can’t metabolize because of the pancreas being taken away, including my favorites: chocolate and ice cream. Otherwise, I’m completely back to good health.

The “Run for Hope” actually didn’t start off as something I was planning on doing. In the back of my mind, I had always wanted to do some type of running again, but because of the extensive damage that was done to my legs from chemotherapy, there were a lot of questions about if I would be able to get out there and run.

So, when I started feeling better around April, we decided that it might be a motivational way for me to get back into shape by doing some type of exercise and getting out walking, maybe progressively increasing it to jogging. Having a goal to complete a half-marathon is what motivated me to recover.

We sent out some brochures to people in our church and family friends, and my old UCLA track coach sent some letters out to UCLA supporters. Within about four weeks we set a goal of $10,000, thinking that would be a real neat goal to reach. In fact, we had a little over 300 sponsors and ended up raising about $11,000.

I guess someone’s really been looking out for me. My acceptance to dental school was a turn of events that really has given us a future and a lot of good hope that we haven’t had in these last two years.

I was contemplating going to dental or medical school next year. So I wrote a letter of inquiry to one school that I was interested in--the University of the Pacific in San Francisco--and told them a little bit about myself and what I’d been through. That day they had a withdrawal from their entering class. They called me up and said, “Can you be here in two weeks?” I talked with my wife about it, and we decided this is too good of a chance to pass up. It’s a three-year program, and I started in July.

Since I’ve become more active, I’ve been going around and speaking to different groups about my experiences with cancer and my recovery, and what it’s meant to my family and my future and my goals.

I’d hate to see someone go through what I did just to learn what I’ve learned, because of what it does to your body. Fighting cancer, so much of it is your mental attitude, not just what the doctors can do for you. That, I think, is the biggest thing about City of Hope, is their belief that there’s no point in treating the body unless you treat the soul.