Oilpressure

It’s hard to believe it’s been almost five years since I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, I remember the phone call like it was yesterday. I was in one of my training stores loading bread dough onto carts for the next day’s bake when the doctor called. My first thought was that it just can’t be true, we were joking around with my gastroenterologist when he did the biopsy. How cavalier I was. That just shows you how unprepared I was for things to go wrong.

We had already made reservations to leave for Road America just two days later, and we had to decide if we were going to let this stop our lives or not. For me it was a no-brainer—I had always gained a sense of peace at Road America. I know that sounds corny, but it is true. The grounds are inspiring, as is the surrounding area in Wisconsin.

After I was diagnosed and we came back from Road America, things moved so fast. Before I knew it, I had a port placed and the very next day, I had my first round of chemo. The rest is a blur—thankfully, I’m not sure I want to re-live those treatments again. If you have followed along with me, you know we went to the Mayo Clinic, where they essentially said they couldn’t do anything for me.

I have to say that if you are ever diagnosed with a serious disease, there are Facebook groups out there who are a wealth of information. In this case, it was my cousin, Michael Baumholtz, who gave us the idea for NanoKnife, as he had been through residency with a doctor who had done NanoKnife surgeries.

I underwent the surgery on February 4, 2021. Radiation came next, to clean up any residual cancer cells and I have had clear scans ever since. This journey has not been without trials and our annual trips to Road America have played a significant role in my healing. I have had two biliary drains since my treatment ended. Sometimes the treatment that saves your life also leave you with residual ailments. I remember the first liver drain I had in 2022 seemed like it was the size of a two-slice toaster.

Once again, a trip to Road America was imminent and I had to drag this drain around with me and find clothing that would cover it. Much to my horror, it had started to leak (gush) also. George was not amused when it leaked all over the seats of his new car as we left a restaurant in Fond du Lac.

To me, Road America is as much about tradition as the Indy 500. We always eat at Majerle’s Black River Grill in Sheboygan for the Friday Fish Fry and PJ Campbell’s at the Depot in Plymouth for Saturday night Prime Rib. We always take pictures of the gravity-defying soft-serve ice cream at the concession stand by the paddock, our annual photo in the golf cart, and our parting selfie at the Road America sign at the main gate. The last picture of me in the orange T-shirt at the bottom of this post was taken on our first day up here—after being diagnosed just three days earlier.

For me, the difference between the Indy 500 is the laid-back atmosphere. It is the perfect race following the high-energy of the Indy 500. We are also not responsible for coordinating meals, hotel rooms, and family events. We love seeing our family and I wouldn’t trade those times for anything, but it is nice to relax and do our own thing for a long weekend.

I guess I have grown more philosophical these past five years. Facing death has a tendency to make you realize what is important. I wouldn’t trade my times spent at Road America for anything. There’s just something about this place.

This entry was posted on June 21, 2025 at 6:30 pm and is filed under IndyCar. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.