Mark Cannizzaro

Mark Cannizzaro

Golf

How a golf couple’s cancer battle made me remember my own

PALM BEACH GARDENS, Fla. — I first approached Stewart Cink about doing a story on the challenging journey he and his wife, Lisa, have been navigating since she was diagnosed in April with an aggressive form of breast cancer because I thought it would be a good story to tell.

As I spoke with Cink, a 20-year PGA Tour veteran and always one of the good guys in the game, I quickly discovered it not only was therapeutic for Cink to speak about the struggles, but it became a cathartic experience for me.

In the case of Cink, his wife is the cancer patient and he’s been her life-saver and advocate, and in my case, I was the cancer patient and my wife, Carolyn, was my life-saver and advocate.

As Cink spoke about his and Lisa’s experiences — from the numbing moment of the diagnosis, to the darkness and despair of the unknown ahead, to confusing conversations with the countless doctors, to the treatments, side effects, hair loss and subsequent recovery — memories of my experiences came rushing back.

He spoke of the same things I recall going through — the fear, the treatments, three months in a hospital bed at Memorial Sloan Kettering and my wife holding everything together so I would not come unglued.

Lisa Cink was diagnosed with Stage 4 invasive ductal carcinoma in April, the same month I was diagnosed with Stage 4 metastatic melanoma nine years ago.

Lisa and Stewart Cink have been adamant about carrying on with the routine of their lives. That has meant continuing to play golf with Lisa accompanying him on the road, where she keeps up with her treatments at hospitals wherever the PGA Tour stop happens to be.

“We didn’t know what the future looked like at that point and I think both of us didn’t want cancer to completely halt us in our tracks … even though it’s completely halted us in our tracks,’’ said Cink, who’s playing the Honda Classic this week at PGA National. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon unless she’s with me. There’s not a lot I want to do without her.’’

Cink recalled playing in the Colonial last May, about three weeks after Lisa’s diagnosis.

“I learned really fast that I wasn’t ready to be out there,” Cink said.

“We’re each other’s support structure out here. I don’t know any other way to do it. I don’t want to stop playing, and she doesn’t want me to stop playing. She’s going to travel as long as she feels like it … and she feels good right now.’’

Cink said they’ve both leaned heavily on their faith and on fellow PGA Tour players such as Ben Crane, Davis Love III, Zach Johnson and, more recently, Kyle Reifers, and their wives.

“Without that, it would be very difficult out here, because this game can be very lonely,’’ Cink said. “Even when you’re playing great it’s lonely, but when you’re playing poorly it’s really lonely.’’

Cink poses with Lisa and his sons, Connor and Reagan, after winning the Open Championship in 2009.Getty Images

There’s no lonelier time than that moment when you first hear the diagnosis. When I heard the word “chemotherapy’’ from my doctors, the first thing that came to my mind was that I was going to die.

“There are certain things that happen in your life that you never forget where you were and the details are clear in your mind, and that was one of those moments,’’ Cink said. “You feel helpless all the time. The more you learn about this, the less control you feel like you have.’’

Cink is not uncomfortable being asked about his wife’s cancer. The effect is quite the opposite, in fact.

“You asking me about it makes me think that you care,’’ he said. “That’s a good feeling. It’s a little therapeutic to talk about it. When you’re discussing it, you’re not thinking about the future; you’re talking about what you already know. It’s good to be a little grounded in the present.

“And,’’ Cink said, “right now the present is pretty good.’’