An Update from Retirement

Over the last nine months, people have often asked me, “How is retirement? Do you miss teaching in Mays Business School?” My answers have often been ambivalent; I love being home with the World’s Most Beautiful Woman and figuring out together how we navigate this next stage of life. How should we invest ourselves? Where should we live? But it is also a challenge to build a new structure of how to live life.

I had felt a lump below my armpit for several weeks, so I thought I would mention it to the doctor when I went in to go over routine bloodwork in January. He thought it was a sebaceous cyst or a fatty tumor, but he suggested an ultrasound, which revealed that there might be something more. I went back to his office to have it removed; doing so proved problematic, but he was able to take about a third of it out. Even before I left the office, he showed me the cancerous lymph nodes which turned out to be metastatic melanoma.

What is interesting is that I never had a melanoma present itself on my skin, even though I go to a dermatologist every six months. We have been given explanations for that, but the pathology results still flipped life upside down. I fully realize that many people go through similar experiences, and that mine is not unique. But the lens through which I look at life changed overnight.

We spent ten days wondering what the next steps would be, hoping to be accepted for treatment at MD Anderson, but knowing we needed to be prepared to move forward rather quickly if not. It felt like the hours crawled by while we were waiting, except for those times when we were engaged with family and friends. The cancer being present in my lymph nodes meant I was at least stage 3; spread to other organs would mean stage 4.

From the moment we were accepted at MD Anderson, they have been a whirlwind of information. Those working on these issues are so impressive, regardless of my individual outcome. But even more impressive to me was their care for us at the individual level. This is not an oil change or tire rotation. At some level, we needed to know they cared about my outcomes. And they do.

They needed to know first if the cancer had spread, so two days after acceptance I was in Houston for a CT scan of my torso and a brain MRI. That evening we sat on a bench outside the hospital, waiting. One of the team members called, saying she knew how hard it was for us to wait for the results, so she wanted to let us know.

Clear. Nothing in the brain. (My students could have told her that.) Nothing in the body, except under the arm. An exhale, and praise to God for this starting point.

We are early; next week is my first immunotherapy session, attempting to get my immune system to attack the cancer in my body. I am also well aware that there is cancer in my body that I have no control over. I am receiving top notch care, but we walk by faith.

So why do I share this with the Mays community through a blog instead of an email? I have shared my journey on a “need to know” and “want to pray” basis to this point. But I have become aware (in part, by text) that I have not shared it with some people who really love us and would want to know. I also have used this venue to share my thoughts on a wide variety of topics that went far afield from accounting not just to sports, but to ethics and values and faith, and to meaning in life.

And I am face-to-face with one of those events that shows you what you really believe, and why you are on the earth. The Mays community, along with my family and faith community, has been a strong support in these weeks of continuing uncertainty. I have not shared this with my students, who are still on campus finishing their degrees, though I have shared it with a few former students.

But I spent the last 18 years here living as transparently as I could and engaging with my students’ concerns. Many of those issues were life changing for those students, and we walked through them together. Why would I not fully engage with people who are a source of strength for Linda and me in this time?

And we have found that our strength does not just come from Mays, but from the broader Aggie community. Our lives have been lifted up all these years by Aggies who love us. We need these people in our lives. Some of them will pray for us. Some will wish us well who do not share our faith in Christ, or our belief in the resurrection. Both groups are simply saying to us, “I love you, and I care how it turns out for you.”

This is not a plea for sympathy, but for engagement together on the things that really matter. And how we love one another as an Aggie community matters. We do it differently here—every first Tuesday, and April 21^st, and November 18^th, and The Big Event, and 12^th Can. Being open about this may provide an opportunity for our lives to count in a different way, whether we get ten months or ten years. We welcome the conversations that will come with those who care, and even with those who are just curious.

So here we are. How is retirement going? I can’t really tell you. But, by God’s grace, I’m here for the ride.

Michael K. Shaub is Clinical Professor Emeritus at Mays Business School at Texas A&M University.