The weekend following Patrick Connor's diagnosis of Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma was extremely emotional. "I pretty much suspected it was cancer," he says. "But I was still shocked when I heard it." Holding himself together, he placed a phone call to his parents, but once he had them on the other end of the line he found himself choking up with emotion. "I couldn't even get the words out. And that was probably the hardest time...telling them." He also called his best friend, Andrea, who had called him that morning to tell him that a mutual friend of theirs had just gotten the results of her biopsy and it was negative. When he got Andrea on the phone he told her that, "Well, one out of two ain't bad."

"I think there's a lot of sadness in telling people. The sadness I felt as I was telling people was in trying to anticipate how they were going to react." That Friday night he told two friends of his condition only to find out that they had a close relative fighting lymphoma. Patrick knew next to nothing about cancer, and he found it comforting to have someone who could supply him with first-hand information about his disease. In addition they also told Patrick that the hardest thing in dealing with a family member who has cancer, especially one who lives out of town, is not knowing if they are telling you the truth about their condition or not. "This helped me set a ground rule with my family, which is, 'I'm going to tell you the truth. If it's good...trust me. If it's bad, I'm going to tell you, and please handle that.' I thought that was important, because it would help them to treat me like a regular person, not just a patient. It was a good lesson I learned early on."

In keeping with his vow of honesty, Patrick began calling people and letting them know he had cancer. On Monday (the same day he was scheduled to meet for the first time with his oncologist) he told the people he worked with about his cancer, and made sure they understood that he expected to maintain his life as usual. Patrick found people's reactions to be universally positive and supportive. "That is one of the most phenomenal things over the past several months, finding out how incredible and generous people are. My boss said whatever you need to do, do it. If you need time off, take it. If you need to disappear for a while, go!" Patrick told his boss that he only wanted to be treated the same way he had always been treated, and his boss complied. "I don't get any slack," says Patrick. "I'm treated the same in meetings -- the expectations, the obligations and the objectives of my job are the same as ever."

That Tuesday, May 9th 2000, Patrick had an open biopsy and two lymphnodes were removed from his neck as well as some bone marrow from his hip. During all of this activity, Patrick continued with his normal rigorous physical training schedule, even after his first round of chemotherapy had been scheduled for May 30th, and on May 20th he proceeded to compete in his third Ironman triathlon. Patrick was making sure to maintain his life as usual.

The Ironman competitions are considered one of the most grueling tests of physical endurance and personal commitment in the world. The race consists of a 2.4-mile swim, then a 112-mile bike ride, and ends with a 26.2-mile run. Patrick had been in training for it for months. His total time for the triathlon was 12 hours 8 minutes and 46 seconds, and he experienced a personal best time of 3:56:10 on the marathon portion of the competition. The California Ironman was Patrick's third triathlon. For the third time he had tested the limits of his body and come out a winner, but perhaps the greatest test still lay ahead of him.

Next week: Chemotherapy, living in the moment and the two-week rule.