The Star Beacon; Ashtabula, Ohio

June 12, 2010

‘I’m a lucky guy’

With a clean bill of health and his strength increasing daily, Moroski is ready to hike — and run — again

By CARL E. FEATHER - cfeather@starbeacon.com
Star Beacon

— Four months after starting his chemotherapy and radiation treatments for non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, Ashtabula County Commissioner Joseph Moroski is officially free of cancer.

The Conneaut resident last week disclosed the results of follow-up testing and consultation with the oncology specialists who treated him.

“I’ve been given a clean bill of health. I will be set up (periodic) scanning procedures, but I’m moving forward. I’ve been advised to go ahead and enjoy life, and pursue whatever I want to do,” Moroski said.

For the two-term county commissioner, that includes seeking re-election.

“It’s the honor of a lifetime,” Moroski says of the privilege to serve as the people’s voice in county government. “When you look back on things that have happened to you in life, to have people elect you, then re-elect you, it’s special. It’s something you look back on with a lot of great memories, even though you were serving in a time when there were some real challenges.”

In addition to the personal challenges that faced Moroski during his cancer battle, the commissioner stubbornly and solitarily held the line against implementing a sales tax increase without the permission of the voters. The board has also faced a legal challenge from Sheriff William Johnson and the ire of other elected officials whose budgets have been cut in the wake of falling revenues.

Being diagnosed with cancer, and enduring the punishing treatment, have a way of putting political challenges in perspective, however.

“They tell you, going into this, that they are going to make you sicker than you’ve ever been in your life, but you don’t have a point of reference of just how sick that is,” says Moroski, who received four intensive, all-day chemotherapy treatments, followed by a month of radiation to mop up any stray cancer cells. “They were absolutely correct. They did make me sicker than I’d ever been before.”

On two different occasions, Moroski had to take a week off to regroup after a treatment. He says it was after the third round of chemotherapy that he hit the low point. The drugs suppressed his bone marrow’s ability to produce red blood cells and the commissioner ended up in an isolation room in the hospital for a week. “I couldn’t breathe,” recalls Moroski, who asked that he be treated at the UHHS Conneaut Medical Center, where he has served as a board member for many years.

“They brought me back from what felt like being at the brink,” Moroski says. “I’m telling you, high-quality nurses make the difference. I was blessed; we have a group of them that could step up and take care of me. They did a wonderful job.”

Moroski also received support from dozens of people who sent cards and letters. He says the ones from cancer survivors and those still battling the disease really stood out because their words reflected insights that can come only from those who have traveled that dark valley.

He also credits prayer for helping him survive the ordeal.

“I can tell you that many people, many churches, groups of people have had me on their prayer lists,” he says.

Moroski went into the treatments with a positive attitude.

“What you quickly observe from meeting other people who are fighting this disease is that people who are able to muster the most positive attitude seem to do really well,” he says.

Moroski also credits his wife, Encie. “I’m blessed to have been married to somebody for 38 years this fall, who has been very supportive of me my whole life. She said ‘I can support you regardless of what you decide to do,’” Moroski said.

Of course, some of the credit has to go to medicine and technology — and luck Moroski recalls his oncologist telling him early on that he was “lucky” because he had a “good kind cancer.”

“What he was really saying is your particular diagnosis is one that frequently responds to treatment,” Moroski said.

The challenge now is to grow back the hair, regain physical strength; hike the Appalachian Trail again; and set priorities, something a cancer diagnosis forces patients to do.

“It’s obvious,” Moroski says. “Things matter less, people matter more. At the end of the day, when you leave this world ... the only thing you are going to take with you are those memories of people, relationships, friendships. That’s the only thing that’s going to matter. I think we all know that, but when we are healthy, you just take that for granted.”