Fathers Fighting Lung Cancer: Strength, Legacy, and Hope

“Trying to do whatever I could do to be there was really important. That sense of urgency gets greater when you have a diagnosis that could mean that you’re not going to be around as long as you had hoped or thought,” he says. During treatment, he took his daughter on a special trip to Hong Kong, proving that even in the midst of fighting cancer, fathers can also share new and exciting experiences with their kids.

His advice to newly diagnosed fathers is that knowledge is power: “If you’re a dad and you’ve been newly diagnosed, I would encourage you first and foremost to become a student of the disease. Learn all that you can about it. That knowledge will help you be a better dad with one cancer as you move forward. Make sure you’ve got that strong support network around you, because that’s also going to be important as you try and be strong for your kids through this whole process, and find ways to spend time with your kids and make opportunities that you maybe wouldn’t have otherwise made.”

Today, James’s advocacy work serves as a living lesson for his children about making the best of difficult situations. His daughter, inspired by his example, has developed her own passion for rescuing animals.

“I want them to see that even when life throws you curves, you can still make a positive impact. That’s the legacy I’m building—one of resilience, hope, and action.”

Through IVF after his initial treatment, Jim and his wife expanded their family, choosing to plan for a shared future even when it felt less guaranteed than ever.

Jim discusses death openly with his daughters while emphasizing living life to the fullest. “For a while, not forever, but for a while, you get a chance to be honest with the people around you, knowing that you’re going to die,” he explains. Whether it’s attending concerts, planning camping trips, or supporting his daughter Grace as she pursues pre-med studies, Jim embraces each experience with gratitude.

His advocacy work began after surviving seven years, when he realized his story could inspire hope in others. “There’s not enough men that survive. There are too many men that give up before the fact, right? We still have over 20% of people getting diagnosed with lung cancer that elect no first-line therapies,” Jim emphasizes. From volunteering at pediatric hospitals to supporting fellow lung cancer patients, Jim transforms his survival into action.

“I’m living my best life right now. I’m 72, and I’ve got three teenage daughters. This is crazy. On any level, to anybody, it sounds stupid, but this is the best life could be.”

“I had guilt not being there for certain activities or events with my family,” he admits. “A lot of fathers I talk to thank the diagnosis for this bringing their family together. But at same time, it’s such guilt. I do therapy for a lot of reasons. You know, we take care of our physical health. Mental health – It’s not a bad word, therapy is not a bad word anymore.” His journey challenged him to drop the “manly” facade he’d maintained for years, learning instead to be vulnerable and show emotions to his family.

Jeff’s support system surprised even him. His ex-wife became his roommate and crucial caregiver, driving him to appointments and providing daily support. His adult children stepped up, fully engaging in his diagnosis and treatment plans. “My diagnosis brought me even closer to them. Our relationship was already very close, but became even deeper and closer,” Jeff shares, noting that it wouldn’t have been possible without his vulnerability.

As an advocate, Jeff notices fewer men than women engaged in lung cancer advocacy, which fuels his mission. “You have to be vulnerable to talk about this, to advocate for mental health, for physical health, for cancer.”

Jeff’s message to fathers facing lung cancer is clear:

“Embrace the present moment, value relationships across all generations, and remember that showing vulnerability to your children teaches them more about strength than any tough-guy act ever could. Be here now—for them, and for yourself.”

Shortly after his diagnosis, when Frank’s car broke down, his sons surprised him with a new one. “It was apparently something that they had always talked about doing. They never mentioned it to me, but I guess they had talked among themselves to do. So when this opportunity came up and it was definitely a need with the appointments and different things that I was going to have coming up, they got together and did that,” he recalls.

The journey transformed how Frank views every family gathering. “You don’t take the holidays for granted. You don’t take a Father’s Day or a Mother’s Day for granted. You think more about what the meaning of those things are because you’re grateful to be, you know, be alive, to experience them, but also to have your family,” he shares.

Frank’s advocacy work has become a family affair. His daughter designs fundraiser shirts, his wife contributes through painting auctions, and his sons promote events and initiatives. “My daughter came up with a design for shirts that I have for my fundraiser, shirts and hats. She came up with the original design and the next year she came up with another design. My wife is a painter. She loves to paint. And she, at my last fundraiser, she did some paintings and auctioned the paintings off, and all of the proceeds for that went to lung cancer research,” Frank explains. With this collaborative approach, Frank’s family channels their experience into meaningful action.

Recognizing that men often struggle to seek help during health crises, Frank uses music as his personal coping mechanism to combat depression and maintain positivity. His message to fellow fathers is direct: “You need to be conscious of that. But you’re not alone. You’re not weak if you ask for help and you’re not weak if you seek out help. Thankfully, I think there’s a lot of good organizations like LCFA that give that information that you can trust and have enough stories.”

Frank’s powerful advocacy centers on early detection and breaking stigma:

“I know a lot of guys are hesitant to ask for help or assistance. I know I was. When I was diagnosed, I had a nurse navigator who reached out a couple of times and I never said I needed anything because I didn’t know what I wanted. I think it’s important to be involved in support groups.”