Romeo Milio

After a colonoscopy, Romeo called me to pick him up. Driving out of the hospital parking lot, he turned to me and said, “So, I have cancer.” Knowing he didn’t have a serious bone in his body, I told him that wasn’t funny — twice. By the third time, I realized he wasn’t joking. Dr. Schorr-Lesnick had found a tumor during the procedure. A CT scan followed, and after a long weekend of waiting, on April 5th, 2011, Romeo was told he had stage four colon cancer — spread to his lymph nodes, kidneys, and possibly his liver. It was also likely caused by Lynch Syndrome, a hereditary condition that significantly raises the risk of colon and other cancers.

We all just sat there stunned. Romeo said, “F&*#! I’m a dead man walking. How long do I have? Five years, seven years?” I remember thinking — seven years, that’s too short. We were referred to Memorial Sloan-Kettering, and our first visit gave us something unexpected: hope. In the waiting room we met a man there for his final visit, in remission. After meeting Dr. Saltz, Romeo’s oncologist, we all felt that although this was going to be hard, we would get through it.

The night before Romeo’s first chemotherapy appointment, his legs began to swell. Instead of starting chemo, Dr. Saltz biopsied his kidneys and surrounding lymph nodes — and what came back stopped everyone cold: adrenal cancer. Super rare and aggressive. Only 1 in a million cancer patients develop it, and only 1 in 100 million have adrenal and colon cancer simultaneously. Fortunately, Dr. Saltz specialized in adrenal cancer as well, and he put a chemo regimen in action immediately. By the third week, Romeo’s potassium dropped drastically and he was hospitalized — yet another curve ball. On June 2nd, surgeons removed approximately 95% of the cancer from his adrenal gland, colon, and lymph nodes. A week later his stitches popped, sending him back for emergency surgery. Then came a staph infection in the surgical incision and port area. Romeo told us the nurse looked so scared when she saw how infected his port site was, and said someone should write a book about it one day. He was humored by her amazement and relished in being such an anomaly.

Once released in early July, we moved into his dad’s house. His legs were still swelling, his back was beginning to hurt, and the overproduction of cortisol from the adrenal cancer had caused Cushing’s syndrome — bringing with it high blood pressure, diabetes, skin ulcers, low potassium, water retention, and compression fractures in his spine. Through all of it, Romeo walked the hospital halls saying, “I can do this” and “F@#k this, I’m getting my life back!” On August 8th, 2011, our beautiful daughter Valentina was born. Romeo was in a wheelchair, but nothing could keep him from holding her. And on October 2nd, 2011, Romeo and I were married at Burke Rehabilitation Center — a small, sweet ceremony where he stared at me and said his vows, and my heart melted.