Fletcher’s Story: ” What matters most is that I chose to fight.”

At 83, Fletcher Lamkin’s bladder cancer journey has been shaped by resilience, difficult decisions and an unwavering determination to keep moving forward. What began as a seemingly minor symptom soon led him into a series of treatments, setbacks and life-altering choices. Through it all, he holds tightly to a simple but powerful belief: never give in. His story reflects the realities many patients face after diagnosis, and the strength it takes to keep fighting each day. This is his story:

“This is the lesson: never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never, in nothing, great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense.”
—Winston Churchill

In December 2021, I noticed something that didn’t seem urgent at first: blood in my urine. It wasn’t constant, and it didn’t come with pain. Still, I mentioned it to Dr. Jerry Kennett, head of cardiology at Boone Hospital and a longtime friend. He prescribed antibiotics but advised me to see a urologist if the bleeding continued.

The bleeding stopped for a few months, but in March it returned. On April 11, a urologist performed a cystoscopy and found a tumor in my bladder. Surgery was scheduled for May 9 at Boone Hospital. Most of the tumor was removed and sent for biopsy.

Four days later, my wife Cindy and I received the news: the tumor was cancerous. It was aggressive and had penetrated the muscle surrounding the bladder. If left untreated, I was told it would likely become metastatic and lead to my death within two years. But there was also hope; the cancer had been caught at a stage where treatment was possible.

I met with oncologists who recommended chemotherapy and radiation. I also asked about bladder removal, knowing it was sometimes done. Seeking clarity, I pursued a second opinion at Barnes-Jewish Hospital in St. Louis. There, Dr. Frankel recommended trimming more of the tumor and inserting a stent before beginning treatment. He also said I was a good candidate for bladder removal.

I spoke with another man my age who had undergone bladder removal. He described the surgery as tolerable but admitted that living with a bag brought daily inconvenience. After careful consideration, I decided to try chemotherapy and radiation in hopes of preserving my bladder.

On June 29, 2022, I underwent additional tumor removal and stent placement. Recovery was more complicated than I expected. I required a catheter for over a week and soon developed a serious infection that left me hospitalized from July 11 to July 19. After returning home, I was unable to urinate normally and had to self-catheterize, an uncomfortable and humbling process I performed up to eight times a day, including during the night.

On July 28, I began four weeks of chemotherapy twice weekly, combined with daily radiation. The treatments were demanding, but by October, I was declared cancer-free.

You might think that is where the story ends. It isn’t.

Although the cancer is gone, the after effects of treatment remain. I have frequent urinary infections and ongoing bladder pain. I am now incontinent and rely on protective garments that must be changed every few hours, disrupting both work and sleep. Every few months, I undergo cystoscopy and stent replacement under anesthesia. Life is, in many ways, more complicated than it was before.

Eventually, the physical toll forced me to step down from my role as a college president. The energy and constant presence the job required were no longer possible. That loss has been difficult. The combination of symptoms can be depressing and, at times, debilitating.

And yet, I am still here.

At 83, I am already living beyond the two years I was told I might have had without treatment. I miss the physical activities I once enjoyed, but I continue to find joy in my family and friends. I remain grateful for each day and for the limited productivity I can still manage.

If I had it to do over again, perhaps I would have chosen bladder removal. But hindsight is clearer than real-time decision-making, and every option carries its own burdens. What matters most is that I chose to fight.

Life now is challenging, but it beats the alternative. And so, I hold fast to Churchill’s words: never give in.