“Pressed but not crushed… struck down, but not destroyed.” – 2 Corinthians 4:7–9, 16
Hi everyone—Dave here.
Most of the updates on this blog have come directly from Michelle, but today she asked me to write this one. She’s recovering like the warrior she is, and she wanted you to hear the details straight from me—her husband, her teammate, and her biggest fan.
So, here’s the story of her surgery, her strength, and our gratitude—for your love, your prayers, and your part in this journey with us.
The Surgery
On July 24th, Michelle underwent her long-anticipated liver resection surgery at The Cleveland Clinic—a world-class facility we are beyond blessed to have right here in our backyard.
This surgery was only made possible because of what we now openly and unapologetically call a miraculous healing.
Thanks to months of chemo, lifestyle changes, focused energy work, the amazing care at the Cleveland Clinic (including histotripsy, which Michelle already received), and the unrelenting power of prayer, her tumor shrank in half and moved away from major blood vessels. That shift—small in distance but massive in meaning—gave her surgeon, Dr. Kim, the confidence and room he needed to attempt what was once uncertain: removing the tumor entirely.
At diagnosis, Michelle’s right lobe (where the tumor lived) was much larger than her left. Today, the left lobe has doubled in size—God and the body preparing the way. Dr. Kim planned for an 8–10 hour surgery. But what unfolded instead was a 16-hour marathon of meticulousness, resolve, and grace.
What Took So Long?
Quite simply: access. The tumor’s new position and the now-dominant left lobe made reaching the tumor extremely difficult. Once there, Dr. Kim found it wrapped near a vital vessel. That’s when the real decision point came.
He could’ve stopped. The margins were unclear. But instead, he removed surrounding tissue, and had it reviewed on the spot by the intraoperative pathologist (yes, those superheroes exist). It came back noncancerous—a turning point. With precision and persistence, he moved forward.
And we are so grateful he did.
Dr. Kim believes he got it all—and said plainly: “It’s good we did this surgery. It needed to come out.”
ICU, Intubation & Flow State Heroes
Michelle spent the night in the surgical ICU, intubated. I had been awake for over 24 hours. That part… wasn’t easy. Seeing her like that—tubes, machines, uncertainty. But the moment she heard my voice and felt my hand on her head, I watched her body calm. I’ll never forget that moment. We both hope to never relive it.
The ICU team? Absolute rockstars. Supportive, aggressive, and human. As for Dr. Kim… I don’t understand how a person can operate for 16 hours straight. But I’ve learned that elite surgeons, when in the thick of it, enter something called a flow state—a mental space where focus drowns out fatigue, where purpose overtakes pressure.
That’s how. And that’s why we admire them so deeply.
We also want to recognize the incredible nurses and staff we’ve encountered throughout this journey at The Cleveland Clinic. Every one of them—oncology, surgical, ICU, and beyond—has been compassionate, skilled, and deeply human. We feel lucky, plain and simple.
The Michelle You Know
Late on July 25, Michelle was moved to the regular surgical floor. And in true Michelle fashion, she’s been quietly dominating every recovery milestone thrown her way. She’s walking, resting, breathing deeply, and checking off all the right boxes.
Her fight and fire? Inspiring.
Her stubbornness to get out of the hospital? Terrifying.
She humbles me—and scares the hell out of me. 😅
Because of the long surgery, recovery has been more intense, especially for her liver and lungs, but she’s pushing through like she always does. She’ll likely be discharged tomorrow (July 29) and will follow up with Dr. Kim in two weeks. The tumor and other tissues are being biopsied—we’ll know more then. Until that time, we remain deeply hopeful.
We’re also grateful that The Cleveland Clinic has been a leader in providing histotripsy and other cutting-edge treatments that helped get us here. Their care gave us options—and hope.
Buoyed by Faith, Prayer, and the Hope Lodge
So many people have reached out—not just asking about Michelle, but also checking on me. Thank you. That meant more than I can express. The first 12 hours of surgery? I did great. The next 12? I was struggling. But faith, prayer, and your support carried me.
Michelle made arrangements for me to stay at the Hope Lodge in Cleveland, operated by the American Cancer Society. It became my refuge. If you’re looking for a place to support, please consider donating. What they provide is not just housing—it’s dignity and peace in the middle of chaos.
Prayers, Rosaries, and Reiki
Our journey continues to be deeply spiritual. We’ve leaned into our faith, rediscovered the power of prayer, and embraced energy healing. We’ve seen too many “coincidences” to call them anything but divine intervention.
Michelle and I are cracked jars of clay—fragile but filled with treasure.
We are hard-pressed on every side but not crushed, perplexed but not in despair, struck down but not destroyed.
And even as outwardly we wear down, inwardly, we are being renewed day by day.
With Full Hearts
Thank you for loving us. Thank you for praying for us. Thank you for offering help, food, messages, and presence. We are overwhelmed in the best way.
Our “heart-strung” friends and family (you know who you are)—you’ve shown us what this life is about. And we only hope we’ll be able to do the same for others when they need it.
Because that’s what it’s all about.
With love,
Dave (and Michelle)
Michelle's Cancer blog 
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