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	Business Lessons Learned From Dealing With Cancer By Howard Solomon

When I last appeared in the pages of MOVE! magazine, back in late 2003, I had written an article titled “Business Lessons Learned From my Experiences as an Endorphin Addict.” The article was exactly as it sounded; it was an articulation of many of the business lessons that I have learned over the years in my pursuit of athletic endeavors such as triathlons and ultra-marathons. In preparation for this article, which I am hoping will serve as a sort of corollary to my 2003 musings, I re-read that article for the first time in many years, and all of my “lessons” still seem to bear relevance today—at least for me personally.

And yet when I read that article, it was, sadly, with a bit of a wizened air. Because in the intervening years I have had a new life “mentor” of sorts (for lack of a better word) emerge not once but twice in my life. Th is interloper has helped shape my life and worldview and has taught me much greater and deeper life lessons than even endurance sports. And similar to my previous article, many of these lessons can be applied directly to business as well, which is what I hope to share with you in these pages. But while endurance sports have been uplifting and inspirational, this new intruder has proved to be more of an arch nemesis who I wish I never knew. Its name is Cancer.

The first time cancer entered my life was in the fall of 2003, shortly after I wrote the aforementioned article. I was traveling to visit a friend in Baltimore, Maryland, and we had planned out a big training weekend for a 50-mile race that we were running together. Upon landing at the airport, my cell phone lit up immediately; there were three messages from my wife. I knew immediately something was wrong. She told me to sit down and gave me the bad news straightaway: she just learned from her doctor that she had early-stage cervical cancer. Once I got over the shock (actually, I still have not gotten over the shock of this news) I told her I was going to the ticket counter to get an immediate return fl ight home. Her words that day have never left me. She said that there was no way I was to come home; there was nothing that I could do, and my immediate return would do nothing but make her feel sick. She concluded by stating as fi rmly as she’s ever stated anything in her life, “Life goes on.”

I ended up staying in Baltimore that weekend at her insistence. It was a miserable two days, but her lesson has stuck with me,and embedded within this tale is an important business lesson as well.

Business Lesson One: Life Goes On

Any cancer survivor would probably agree: once you stop feeling sorry for yourself (or your loved one), you have to recognize that life goes on. Establishing a pattern of normalcy, to the extent to which your life is now “normal,” and refusing to capitulate is a critical part of one’s battle with cancer. For me, it was beyond critical that I continue to work in an unimpeded manner, even though it was a struggle at times. There was no other way; I was simply not going to let this thing win without a fi erce battle.

The same lesson can be applied in business. We are living in diffi cult economic times. People are losing their jobs, their homes, and their life savings. In certain respects, the eff ect that this can have on one’s life or psyche can be just as impactful as cancer. But you know what? Without trivializing these matters, life goes on, and to use a horribly tired cliché, the sun rises tomorrow. I have learned that you should be happy and appreciative to see that sun. The most important thing you can do is put your head down and forge forward with life—while simultaneously keeping open eyes.

I am pleased to say that my wife has recuperated well. While she had to undergo a hysterectomy—which is something no 35-year-old woman should have to experience— she managed to avoid after-treatment and, she has successfully moved on with her life. I thought I had too, until cancer struck again. Th is time it struck me.

In a weird way, my love for endurance sports, which continues today, may have saved my life. I moved to San Francisco in late 2005 to help manage Ruder Finn’s West Coast operations. Shortly after relocating, I signed up for an indoor cycling class that would help strengthen me for the upcoming cycling and triathlon season. Th e class was tremendously diffi cult, and it broke me down and gave me a nasty cold that I couldn’t shake for weeks. I fi nally gave in and went to see a doctor, something I’m not ordinarily apt to do. The doctor quickly diagnosed me with a case of bronchitis and then suggested that he conduct a physical, as it had been quite some time since my last exam. He detected a lump on my neck that he found disconcerting and suggested I see an endocrinologist immediately. I will spare you the ensuing saga of tests and re-tests and even more tests, but little more than a month later I was diagnosed with stage-two papillary thyroid cancer. Receiving a diagnosis of cancer is a call I hope one never receives, but in a certain respect, I have never been more grateful for a case of bronchitis. As noted, it very well could have saved my life. There’s another important lesson embedded within this anecdote as well.

Business Lesson Two: Go to the Doctor. Regularly. 

I was 39 years old at the time of my diagnosis and at the top of my game fi tness-wise. As a somewhat accomplished triathlete and runner (albeit middle-of-the-packer) I saw no reason to go to the doctor proactively. It’s not too far off the mark to state that this poor decision-making very well could have cost me my life. I think the metaphor holds true in business as well: from time to time, you need to see the doctor. What I mean is that even if your business is prospering, you sometimes need to stop for a check-in. Perhaps you need to bring in an outsider (a boss, a consultant, a mentor) or maybe you can achieve this through careful self-analysis and introspection, but from time to time it’s important to step back, dispassionately look at what you are doing—or better yet, ask someone else to look at it for you—and ask yourself: Is my business truly healthy? If you look at things objectively and ask the right set of questions, you’ll fi nd that there is always room for improvement. You will also fi nd that these periodic visits to a “doctor” can often help avoid catastrophe over the long term.

About two weeks after my diagnosis, I had surgery to remove my thyroid gland and eight lymph nodes that also tested positive for cancer. My recovery from surgery was diffi cult from the standpoint that I was unable to exercise for several weeks, and my body had to learn how to adapt to synthroid, a synthetic hormone that I now need to take every day for the rest of my life to compensate for my missing thyroid gland. I also needed to prep for a massive dose of radiation therapy, which was scheduled for two months following my surgery. The objective of the radiation was to ablate any remaining cancer cells. I will spare you the details of my radiation, but suffice to say, it was a pretty miserable six weeks. This post-surgery, pre-radiation juncture was the only point in time during my entire ordeal that I started to feel bad for myself. More than anything, and perhaps foolishly, in the grand scheme of things, I was upset that I had to miss the upcoming triathlon and running season, for which I was preparing diligently for.

A few weeks before my diagnosis I had signed up for a very popular half ironman triathlon in Sonoma County. Given that it was scheduled to take place eight weeks after my surgery, I didn’t think there was any chance of participating. I was bummed, to put it mildly; I had planned on this being my big race for the year, and up until my diagnosis, my training had been going very well. Th e Monday before the race, I called my coach and asked what he thought about possibly participating. I had resumed easy swimming, biking and running but had done nothing I would consider “training” per se. I was concerned that the distance— 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike ride and 13.1-mile run—might prove too much for someone who was less than 90 days outside of fairly extensive neck surgery. His fourword response, much like my wife’s earlier, has stayed with me all these years. A man of few words, he simply said, “you can do this.” And he was right. I decided then and there to go, recognizing that the worst thing that could happen was that I’d have to drop out if it proved to be too difficult.

Business Lesson Three: You Can Do This—Shoot for the Moon

The plan we formulated focused on nothing more than getting me to the fi nish line safely and in one piece. Any sense of racing for time was thrown straight out the window. For the fi rst time in my life, I went into a race thinking I could realistically fi nish last. And the beautiful and liberating thing was that I could not have cared less. Th e short story is that I fi nished the race. I suff ered greatly, but I enjoyed every single moment. I didn’t fi nish last, but it was the slowest race I have ever run in my life. And it was also my most memorable. Over the years I have run literally hundreds if not a thousand races, but this is the one that stands out. For the fi rst time, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I felt like an Olympic gold medalist in terms of what I had accomplished under difficult circumstances.

The business lesson here? Dare to dream big. Set forth a goal that scares the living crap out of you and seems unattainable and go for it—but go for it in a methodical, sensible fashion. And if you need someone to coach you through it, like I did for my race, then so be it. If you ultimately achieve that goal, it’s something that will stay with you for a long while. And even if you don’t, there’s consolation in knowing you were brave enough to give it a shot.

Business Lesson Four: Seek the Best Possible Counsel and Accept Nothing Less

The good news about thyroid cancer is that it’s generally considered a “good cancer” in that there is a clear-cut treatment path and the mortality rate is very low. Unfortunately for me, I had a few curveballs thrown my way that created some complications. And when this becomes the case, no one assumes a more important role in your life than your oncologist, or, in my case, my endocrinologist.

On a personal level, I liked my doctor very much. He was personable fellow and had an easygoing manner. But what I learned about midway through my case was that his specialty area within endocrinology was diabetes; he knew a bit about thyroid cancer, but not enough to be what I would categorize as an expert. I recognized this early in our relationship but found myself reticent to change to a new doctor for no other reason than that it’s diffi cult mentally to make a seismic change when you are smack in the middle of a treatment path. Finally, however, circumstances became such that I felt compelled to make a change. This time, I found one of the world’s leading thyroid specialists at University of California San Francisco, one of the nation’s leading healthcare institutions. Th e bottom line is that with all due respect to my previous doctor, I am incredibly thankful for my new doctor, and I kick myself for not making this change earlier.

I learned a good lesson here, and I apply it to business nearly every day. It’s an easy one, on paper at least, and it has become my new mantra: Surround yourself with only top talent and learn to trust that talent implicitly. It sounds trite, but don’t compromise quality when it’s quality that really counts. Surround yourself with only the best, whether it’s your employees, business partner, clients, vendors, etc. And certainly, when it comes to your health, it’s tantamount to seek the best counsel and caretakers that you can fi nd. And take the time to do as much research as necessary. Whether in business or in life, research forms the basis for making informed, smart decisions. It’s a truism when it comes to healthcare that you must become your own advocate and leave nothing to chance, because no one else will be looking out on your behalf.

Lance Armstrong has long been my hero, even well before we shared the cancer bond. And I believe it was Lance who stated in one of his books—and I paraphrase here—that even given the trials and tribulations associated with cancer, if he could go back in time and alter his history such that he never would have had cancer, he’s not certain if he would do so, as it has taught him so much about life. I’m not certain that everyone with cancer would necessarily agree with this sentiment, but I do. Without getting too new-agey, I think that, much like any hardship in life, you can fi nd embedded within certain “gifts” that have the capacity to transform your life for the better. Cancer provided me with the gift of perspective. I thought I understood what it was like to have a measure of perspective, but in looking back, I was mistaken.

Business Lesson Five: Maintain Perspective 

I’m a type A personality who probably was dosed early in life with a mild splash of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. It’s the only way I can explain why I think running 50-and 100-mile races is actually fun.

But at the same time, when you’re that singularly focused on the task at hand— whether it’s running a long-distance event or bringing in a new client or growing a business— sometimes you lose sight of what’s happening around you and what’s really important in life. I take everything I do in life very seriously—most especially my job— but at the same time, I’m genuinely happy to see the sun rise every morning. Without sounding too maudlin, I have a new appreciation for every day I have on this planet, regardless of any business or personal setback. And there is no getting around the fact that setbacks are bound to happen. It’s what you learn from them that really matters. I’ve also learned that you can control what you can control, and that to maintain your sanity, especially when the going is tough, you need to maintain some degree of Zen about things. Th e PR business is particularly diffi cult given the oftentimes delicate relations with clients, and each day seems to bring forth new challenges. I have learned that maintaining perspective through good times and bad is vitally important to maintaining your mental health. I think it’s an especially noteworthy point, especially in consideration of our bleak fi nancial landscape.

Flash forward to today, early 2009, and I am happy to report that, similar to my wife, my health is just fi ne. I have crossed the chasm from cancer patient to cancer survivor, and for that, I am enormously thankful.

It’s funny though, how life is able to throw repeated curveballs. A few years ago I thought I had learned all there was to know in business from lessons I had learned from endurance sports.

Little did I know back then, however, that though many of those lessons endure, I would ultimately come to learn far more from a less worthy but far more dangerous adversary. Though I hope to never again see cancer’s ugly face, I’ve taken away from this experience every positive thing that I can, and if I have come out of this experience as a better person, parent, husband, and colleague— which I think I have—then I can say that, regardless of how this all might ultimately shake out in the end, it’s a battle I have won.

And that, for me, has been the most important lesson of all.