Roger Aldis

If Roger Aldis did not have a brother who was a physician’s assistant, he probably would not have gone to the doctor as soon as he did. In early 2004, he noticed some blood after a BM and didn’t know what to think of it. He mentioned it to his brother, who in turn had urgent advice.

“He told me to go get a scope and to get it now,” Roger recalled.

He heeded his brother’s advice, going to a local clinic in Topeka, Kansas, to get his first taste of the milieu of restrictions that can surround a healthcare experience. He was told by the nurse at the front desk that he needed a referral from another doctor before he could receive services.

A designer of luxury boats and entertainment buses, Roger went back to work instead of trying to sort out his healthcare. But his brother was diligent, calling him back and urging him to get the scope no matter what it took. Roger listened.

“I went called and the brick-wall-of-a-nurse was not there. I talked to someone else and pretty soon I had the scope done,” he said.

From the scope he got confirmation, even though he did not know quite what it was. The doctor told him he had it. He didn’t say colon cancer. He asked Roger if he had a doctor. Roger said he did not. He asked Roger if he had a surgeon. Roger said he did not. The physician who performed the scope elected himself as Roger’s physician and said a neighbor of his could perform surgery.

Roger did have surgery, finding out sometime between the scope and the surgery that he had colon cancer. The surgeon gave him a good report when he finished removing approximately 17 inches of Roger’s colon. He told Roger he got it all and there would be no need for a follow-up for three months. Three months later, Roger was in the office and received another clean bill of health.

For his second follow-up six months later, the news was not so good. He had spots on his liver, his lungs, and the base of his neck. The doctor wanted to perform a needle biopsy on the liver spot to confirm it was cancer. Roger suggested it was more like a “sword” biopsy since it took so long to heal. He remembers the procedure and how the nurse had to take the doctor’s hand and help him guide the needle because he could not find the tumor.

Roger was referred to an oncologist for a consult that did not go so well. The oncologist he saw had no idea why Roger was there. An active and healthy person, Roger thought he would be fine. The doctor began asking Roger about his condition. After the doctor gleaned all his information from the patient, Roger jokingly asked if he was going to die. The doctor did not get it as a joke and said plainly, “Yes, in about three months.”

The date was early June 2004. Roger was stunned. He had little information about his cancer to this point and was not expecting a death sentence. He had moved from Dallas to Topeka to be close to his son, who was 7 at the time. All he could think about was his little boy, Antonio.

“How do you guide a 7-year-old for the rest of his life in just 90 days?” Roger said.

He asked several of his customers, people of means, if they knew of any place that might offer him treatment to save his life. His son’s mother, Carla, also began looking on the Internet.

“One of my customers said they two knew people who had gone to Cancer Treatment Centers of America and they credited CTCA with saving their lives. At the same time, Carla came back with the same name from her Internet search,” Roger said.

“On my last scan, the only thing lighting up was the liver. Dr. Staren went in there, cut some of it out, and did radiofrequency ablation on the rest. He said it was pretty clean when he got in there,” Roger said.

He speaks well of the complementary therapies, the doctors, and the transportation department. He is very pleased that CTCA has given him more time for what matters most.

“I have lived a full life. It is all about my son, now,” he said.

Colorectal Cancer