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Issue Date: May 30, 2004
"You can't let the disease paralyze you"
Benson Campbell lived a charmed life until he was diagnosed with testicular cancer. After winning the battle, he understands how blessed he really is.
By Dennis McCafferty
Something happened to Benson Campbell. He'd feel it at night when he tried to sleep at his home in Nashville, or while playing flag football on Saturdays with pals. Everything seemed fine, but then a lingering and often very sharp pain would jolt him in the lower back, like a mean old dog from the Tennessee hills biting him in the spine and not letting go.
Campbell with wife Danielle and son Walker, nearly 2. A second child, a girl, is due in August, thanks to banked sperm. Right: Campbell, who lettered in golf, now stages anti-cancer golf events.
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One night in October 2002, it got to be too much. Campbell's back was screaming in pain. His wife, Danielle, got him to Vanderbilt University Medical Center just after 2 a.m. The next day, doctors told Campbell he had testicular cancer.
At that point, Campbell had a loving wife and a 3-month-old son, Walker. He was a successful salesman for mail-and-document management systems company Pitney Bowes. And he was all of 27 years old -- facing a disease that could kill him. "How could this happen to me?" he thought. Other than the pain, he felt great. Throughout Danielle's pregnancy, the two of them were in the gym every day at 5:30 a.m. This wasn't supposed to happen now. Or so Campbell had thought.
"This would never cross my mind," says Campbell, now 29, relaxing with a chicken salad sandwich on the deck of his white-bricked ranch home. "Cancer? At 27? I thought only old people got cancer."
After the initial shock, the Campbells took charge. They found out what had to be done and immediately went at it. Like many confronting mortality, Campbell broke down along the way. Some days chemotherapy left him so spent he couldn't get off the couch, much less play with his son. Christmas 2002 was a disaster; he could barely stay awake long enough to open presents. But after the fog of illness lifted, he emerged with a greater awareness of who he is. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, as the saying goes. Today, Campbell is a strong man indeed: He has rallied his extended family, as well as a community without boundaries, to raise funds to fight testicular cancer. In only its second year, his family-run foundation, Friends-4-Cures (friends4cures.org), is expected to have raised more than $125,000 by year's end.
"I know darn well I'm lucky to be here," Campbell says. "I'm allowed to wake up every day and feel and breathe because of the care I received. We're doing what we're doing so other patients can keep getting that kind of medical care."
Ordinary men who beat deadly diseases have raised millions to help others.
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Testicular cancer is the most common form of cancer in men ages 18 to 35. There are projected to be 8,980 new cases this year in the United States, according to the American Cancer Society. The cancer has a 90% survival rate. Still, the Campbells were stunned by his diagnosis. "I was scared to death," says Danielle, 29. "But, very shortly, we both were determined. We said, 'Let's get this started.' You can't let the disease paralyze you."
Before the diagnosis, if you thumbed through a photo montage of Campbell's life, you'd conclude he was ridiculously blessed. Look at his high school yearbook from Henderson, Ky., and you'll see a guy for whom yearbooks were invented: a state-ranked swimmer who also lettered in golf; voted into the homecoming court (along with Danielle, although they didn't go to the dance with each other); named "Best All-Around" senior. At the University of Kentucky, he and Danielle, friends since second grade, discovered that they were falling in love. As soon as they started dating, Campbell's GPA shot up from 2.0 to 3.0, so he knew he had a good thing going. They married in May 1999, a year after graduation. Walker arrived in July 2002.
Three months later, the cancer was diagnosed.
Campbell was supported by virtually everyone -- the community, his company, even strangers. Co-workers brought hefty plates of chicken casserole and takeout burritos to the Campbell home. His personal Web site, team-benson.com, racked up more than 750 entries of guest-book commentary about his progress from loved ones and people who had gotten word of Campbell's situation.
"He always drew people toward him," says Kristi Campbell, 31, his sister. "But when he got sick, it was overwhelming to see all the good feelings he has inspired in his lifetime."
After three months of chemo and surgery, he was declared cancer-free.
The "victim" transformed into a healer. Friends-4-Cures staged a golf/ dinner/dance event in Henderson last September and raised $50,000 for the Indiana University Cancer Center, where Campbell was operated on. Friends-4-Cures is on target to meet this year's goal of $75,000, with another golf/dinner/dance event set for Henderson this Sept. 18.
And there's more good news for the Campbells: They're expecting a baby girl in August. Campbell arranged for his sperm to be stored before his operation. "Having another child," he says, "is a sign that I'm overcoming this disease."
Something certainly happened to Benson Campbell. Something that was so frightening has made his life richer. He never felt more full of purpose. His son's laughter never sounded so sweet; his wife's embrace never felt more meaningful.
"Danielle and I feared we'd only have one child and I might not be around for him," he says. "This makes it all the more special. It warms our hearts to know we will have another child, and Walker will get to keep his dad."
For more on cancer, go to the American Cancer Society's Web site at cancer.org and the Testicular Cancer Resource Center at tcrc.acor.org.
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Survivors who lead the fight
Campbell is far from alone. USA WEEKEND has uncovered many stories about healthy men who have battled back from a devastating disease and have since sought to stop it in its tracks.
After needing a double transplant of the pancreas and kidneys a year ago at age 42 because of diabetes, Doug Ayers has chaired the local American Diabetes Association's America's Walk for Diabetes in his native Chicago and helped raise $100,000 last fall.
Stroke survivor Fred Sullivan, 45, of greater Boston, is training for a June 20 marathon in Hawaii and, as part of the American Stroke Association's Train to End Stroke effort, is on target to raise $20,000.
After a three-hour tennis match, Brad Hobbs, then 34, suffered a major heart attack; today, the Virginia Beach resident has helped raise more than $130,000 this year for the American Heart Association.
Photographs of Benson Campbell and family by Tamara Reynolds for USA WEEKEND
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