Eric’s Story: “It’s like a jigsaw puzzle that you’re supposed to figure out.”

Eric Bockler never imagined that a quick internet search would change the course of his cancer journey—or that a conversation with his sister would unlock a connection to a community he didn’t even know he needed. What began as a frustrating hunt for answers slowly turned into something deeper: a story of navigating the complexities of a cancer diagnosis, the maze of veterans’ benefits, and the power of finding people who’ve walked the same path. This is his story:

I’ll never forget how I first found BCAN. My sister had been through breast cancer about 15 years before that. When I was going through my own cancer, she turned me on to CURE. She said, “Have you heard about this?” I told her, “No,” so I went online and checked it out.

CURE, as you probably know, is a pretty broad platform. It covers all cancers. But at that point, I wasn’t in my right mind, thanks to treatment and everything else, so I’m scrolling through CURE’s website, and I’m mostly seeing stories about breast cancer and other things. There was hardly anything on bladder cancer. Later on, I told my sister, “Yeah, I looked at it, but there wasn’t anything on bladder cancer.” And she asked me, “Did you bother to search?” And I thought, maybe I should have done that! So that’s how I stumbled on BCAN. I did the search, and there it was, this really great resource specifically for people like me. That’s what got me connected to BCAN in the first place.

Once I found out about BCAN, things kind of lined up. My daughter works for St. Jude in Memphis, and you all were having a Patient Summit in Nashville. So I flew to Memphis, met up with my daughter, and then we went to the Nashville Summit together. That’s where I met Mark Story, the Director of Communications and Marketing at BCAN, for the first time in person. I still remember him talking to my daughter. He told her, “We’re going to take care of your dad and get him covered by the VA.” That really stuck with me, especially because getting coverage has been a big focus of mine.

When the PACT Act expanded, extending benefits to soldiers and sailors exposed to burn pits in conflicts beyond Vietnam, I had mixed feelings. I was happy they were finally recognizing these exposures, but it was also confusing for me. One of my big questions for the VA early on was about Agent Orange. The issue with that was you had to be in a specific geography at a specific time. I served during the original Gulf War, but I was never in the Middle East. So, my question to the VA was simple: “Since I have bladder cancer, is this something that could get covered?” I just wanted a yes or no.

Fast-forward a few years, and just before the PACT Act expansion announcement came out, I got approved for benefits related to my bladder cancer—but only at 40%. That was frustrating because, during my initial interview with the VA, I was told if I got approved, it’d be at 100%. Then came the first denial. Then the second denial. Then, finally, approval at 40%. A couple of months later, the PACT Act extension came out. To this day, I still don’t know if I was approved because of the Act, because of my own research and documentation, or some combination of both.

I wasn’t exposed to burn pits directly. There’s nothing in my medical record that says that. But I did provide the VA with lots of examples of environmental hazards from places where I’d been stationed. When they finally said, “Yes, you’re approved,” I thought, “Thank God. We’re finally at the end.” But it wasn’t the end—it was another beginning. Now I was at 40%, and I was like, “Now what am I supposed to do?” So then came the process of going back through and adding side effects of my treatments. Slowly, it went from 10% to 40% with bladder cancer. Then they looked at neuropathy and found out I had it in all four quadrants, which was another 20% each.

During an interview with the VA, the woman evaluating me said, “Why didn’t you put in for thyroid?” I said, “Well, I was working with the Disabled American Veterans (DAV), and they didn’t tell me. I don’t know—I’m just trying to figure out this process.” She told me to wait and let the neuropathy and fatigue requests get resolved and then went back to the DAV to keep the process moving. I was in the middle of all that when I got a letter in the mail, this was after my approval, that said I was now at 90%.

Eventually, I talked to the DAV guy, and he said, “You’re at 100%.” I said, “Okay, but where does it say that?” He said, “See this bullet point right here? ‘Basic eligibility for dependent education assistance based on permanent and total disability status is established as December 2024.’” I was like, “Okay, but why doesn’t it just say 100%? The last letter said 70%. Why doesn’t this one say 100%?” And he told me, “That’s just how they do it.” But all I wanted was the words “100%”—that’s something I can understand.

From the very beginning, my bladder cancer symptoms were subtle. As a man, I grew up with the idea that you just rub some dirt on it and keep going. One day, during a break from teaching high school, this was during the height of COVID, I happened to use a trough urinal. After I was done, I zipped up, and I noticed something in there that looked like blood. I thought, “That’s weird. Did that come from me?” I didn’t have any pain. No problems. Nothing. So, I started paying a little more attention, but still, no pain, no urgency. It didn’t seem serious.

A second time, I saw the same thing. So I went to the school nurse. I asked her, “Hey, I’m not sure if this is anything, but what do you think?” She said, “You should get it checked out.” Covid was raging. Appointments were impossible to get. When I called for an appointment, the earliest one I could get was four months away.

Because the blood was so intermittent, I didn’t think it was urgent. If you see blood in your urine—even if there’s no pain—you need to take it seriously. Even if it happens only once or twice, it’s not normal. Go see someone.

For me, from the first symptom in January, it took until around July to get a definitive diagnosis. By then, the blood was more consistent. When I saw the urologist, I gave them a urine sample with blood and clots in it. They immediately scoped me. That’s when they found a golf-ball-sized tumor. The doctor said, “We need to get this out ASAP.” Everything moved fast after that. My daughter was in nursing school then, so she understood some of the terms but not all of them.

A few weeks later, I had trans urethral resection of bladder tumor, a TURBT. The doctor who did the surgery was nice but had no bedside manner. He told my 80-plus-year-old mother and my daughter, “I think we got everything. Everything should be fine.” The following Tuesday, I got a call from his staff before I’d even spoken with him. The receptionist said, “You haven’t talked to the doctor?” and then the doctor called me himself. He read me the pathology report—like he was reading a grocery list—and then said, “Do you have any questions?” I didn’t even know what the hell he’d just said. Then he passed me off to someone else.

When I finally got to the specialist, my first question was, “What the hell does this pathology report mean?” He was younger, kinder, and he slowed things down. He explained things to me and gave me options. I really appreciated that.

For veterans with bladder cancer trying to get coverage, my advice is this: Find another veteran who’s been through it. Honestly, that advice goes for anyone with bladder cancer. Patients who’ve walked that path, the good and the bad, are invaluable. These big systems, whether the VA or the general medical system, are monsters. I’m still trying to figure it out. I’ve never found that one person who could say, “Here’s where you are, and here’s what you should be doing.” I stumbled through this on my own.

I eventually worked with the DAV, but the problem was I never saw the same person twice. There’s no consistency, no guidance. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle that you’re supposed to figure out yourself while juggling your health, family, and everything else. That’s why I tell every veteran or cancer patient: Find someone who’s been through it. They’ll help you understand that you’re not alone, and maybe you can help each other navigate this journey.

20 Years of Impact: 20 Voices of BCAN

For two decades, the Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network (BCAN) has been a beacon of hope, support, and advocacy for patients and their loved ones. As we celebrate 20 years of collective progress, we honor the voices that have shaped this journey—those who have faced bladder cancer with resilience, and those who have provided unwavering support.

Through our 20 Voices initiative, we are sharing powerful personal stories that highlight the impact of bladder cancer and the strength of our community. These voices reflect the challenges, triumphs, and hope that define BCAN’s mission for better todays and more tomorrows for all those impacted by bladder cancer.