I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL) after moving from New Orleans to San Antonio, Texas. What started as a routine visit to an allergist for swelling in my cheeks, eyes, and neck turned into a life-changing moment when a CT scan revealed the unthinkable. In that devastating instant when my doctor delivered the news, I discovered that sometimes life's darkest moments can lead you to exactly where you need to be. The people of San Antonio didn't just welcome me ― they embraced me, making their city my sanctuary.
My guardian angel came in the form of Dr. Roger Lyons at Cancer Care Center. Every time I mentioned his name, locals would light up, "He's the best!" Their enthusiasm reinforced what I already knew ― I had a champion in my corner, guiding me through the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
Chemotherapy is a brutal dance with destiny. Every 21 days, it knocks you down only to let you rise again. By day 10, I'd hit rock bottom, fighting insomnia and struggling with dizziness. Then, like dawn breaking through the darkness, I'd start feeling better around day 14. But this respite was fleeting. Soon it would be time to start the cycle again. Chemo throws you between the lowest lows and highest highs, testing your spirit with every round. The sleepless nights were the hardest, sometimes stretching three or four days.
The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) became my beacon of hope. During my treatment, they gave me the tools to navigate the process. They transformed overwhelming medical jargon into understanding. When my doctor prescribed "RCHOP," LLS helped me decode each component of my treatment. Learning that the once-clinical trial, Rituxan®, my primary weapon against cancer, was brought to market through LLS funding deepened my gratitude immeasurably. Their support extended beyond medical knowledge; just knowing they offered patient and family care lifted the weight of financial uncertainty from my shoulders.
After beating cancer, I embraced a profound truth ― our time is precious, and we must cherish the moments that bring us happiness. This revelation inspired me to open Cured, a restaurant whose name celebrates both my recovery and our signature cured meats. Every aspect of Cured reflects my journey: the pure, natural ingredients, the patient process of curing heritage Texas meats for 3-24 months, the handcrafted cocktails, bitters, pickles, and mustards. It's a testament to my Wisconsin farm roots, my New Orleans culinary education, and my hard-won future in San Antonio.
In March 2024, I shared my passion through my cookbook, Cured: Cooking with Ferments, Pickles, Preserves, & More. To cure is to strengthen, to prepare for tomorrow while honoring today. Now, I find immense joy in making these time-honored traditions accessible to others, sharing the foods that helped restore my health and spirit.
My connection to the LLS community runs deep. Their support helped me rediscover my whole self, and I've dedicated myself to giving back, serving on the South Central Texas Chapter Board, leading fundraising efforts, and hosting our annual "Cured for a Cure" dinner. Together with guest chefs from across the country, we've raised over $150,000 to support others fighting their own battles. Being part of the LLS family isn't just important to me, it's a testament to the power of community, hope, and healing. Through them, I found not just recovery but purpose.
Steve
NHL Survivor
