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https://www.si.com/nfl/2017/10/24/chris-mortensen-throat-cancer-recovery
This is one in a series of stories from The MMQB about people in and around the NFL who have been affected by cancer.
BRISTOL, Conn. — “What,” Chris Mortensen is asked, “was a dark moment for you?”
He might have said it was when a doctor told him, matter-of-factly, in January 2016 that he suspected Mortensen had the most severe and advanced form of malignant throat cancer. Not good for anybody; especially bad for someone whose voice is his living. He might have said when he told his wife, Micki, the diagnosis, and she crumpled to their floor, sobbing, and then ran outside screaming, “Oh God! Oh God!”
But there was something worse. It was about seven months into Mortensen’s treatment, when he wanted to be euphoric, because the last of 35 debilitating radiation treatments, designed to burn away the tumor in his throat, was over. Now maybe he’d finally start the feel like the old Mort, life-of-the-party Mort, needling-Chris Berman-on-the-set-of-“Sunday Countdown” Mort.
No. Doctors told him to prepare to feel his throat cooking for the next one to two months.
“That’s exactly the phrase they used,” Mortensen said. “‘You’re still cooking.’ They said, ‘You’re still cooking for four, six, eight weeks after you’re done [with radiation treatments].’”
Reporter that he is, Mortensen sounded surprisingly matter-of-fact talking about his outlook during the days, and weeks, when his throat felt like it was on fire.
“I wondered, you know … whether I’d finish out the year.”
Mortensen finished out the year. He is on course to finish out this one. Statistics in cancer are ever-changing because of the advances in the science surrounding the disease, but the survival rate for the form Mortensen had, oropharyngeal cancer, at the stage it was, is about 40 percent. Mortensen’s throat and tongue are clear now, but the cancer has spread to his left lung, where last November doctors found several malignant nodules. More treatment, this time with an IV regimen every three weeks; last week he had his 15th treatment. “I’ve asked how long this will go on, and they say maybe forever,” said Mortensen, 65. “They have to make sure it doesn’t metastasize to anywhere else. Right now, it’s metastasized to my lungs.”
That is the new normal for Mortensen: doctors chasing this insidious disease inside him. It might be this way for the rest of his years.
This is why Mortensen does not like the phrase “beat cancer.” He hasn’t. There he is, looking 85 percent of his old self on TV, and you think, Glad he beat it. “One thing people need to know—Chris still has cancer!” his wife, Micki, emailed just this week.
Mortensen is ahead by a touchdown at the end of the first quarter, is where he is.
This is one in a series of stories from The MMQB about people in and around the NFL who have been affected by cancer.
BRISTOL, Conn. — “What,” Chris Mortensen is asked, “was a dark moment for you?”
He might have said it was when a doctor told him, matter-of-factly, in January 2016 that he suspected Mortensen had the most severe and advanced form of malignant throat cancer. Not good for anybody; especially bad for someone whose voice is his living. He might have said when he told his wife, Micki, the diagnosis, and she crumpled to their floor, sobbing, and then ran outside screaming, “Oh God! Oh God!”
But there was something worse. It was about seven months into Mortensen’s treatment, when he wanted to be euphoric, because the last of 35 debilitating radiation treatments, designed to burn away the tumor in his throat, was over. Now maybe he’d finally start the feel like the old Mort, life-of-the-party Mort, needling-Chris Berman-on-the-set-of-“Sunday Countdown” Mort.
No. Doctors told him to prepare to feel his throat cooking for the next one to two months.
“That’s exactly the phrase they used,” Mortensen said. “‘You’re still cooking.’ They said, ‘You’re still cooking for four, six, eight weeks after you’re done [with radiation treatments].’”
Reporter that he is, Mortensen sounded surprisingly matter-of-fact talking about his outlook during the days, and weeks, when his throat felt like it was on fire.
“I wondered, you know … whether I’d finish out the year.”
Mortensen finished out the year. He is on course to finish out this one. Statistics in cancer are ever-changing because of the advances in the science surrounding the disease, but the survival rate for the form Mortensen had, oropharyngeal cancer, at the stage it was, is about 40 percent. Mortensen’s throat and tongue are clear now, but the cancer has spread to his left lung, where last November doctors found several malignant nodules. More treatment, this time with an IV regimen every three weeks; last week he had his 15th treatment. “I’ve asked how long this will go on, and they say maybe forever,” said Mortensen, 65. “They have to make sure it doesn’t metastasize to anywhere else. Right now, it’s metastasized to my lungs.”
That is the new normal for Mortensen: doctors chasing this insidious disease inside him. It might be this way for the rest of his years.
This is why Mortensen does not like the phrase “beat cancer.” He hasn’t. There he is, looking 85 percent of his old self on TV, and you think, Glad he beat it. “One thing people need to know—Chris still has cancer!” his wife, Micki, emailed just this week.
Mortensen is ahead by a touchdown at the end of the first quarter, is where he is.