Learning to Let Others in, One Conversation at a Time
In November of 2022, Jim Cole and his wife, Martha, were just settling into their picturesque small ranch in Bozeman, Montana. Leaving their long-time home and community of friends in Colorado hadn’t been easy, but they were excited about their plans for the future and looked forward to celebrating their first Christmas in Bozeman.
Five weeks later though, Jim found himself in an operating room. He was having a cancerous melanoma tumor removed from his body. The cancer was much more invasive than his doctor had anticipated. It had moved into Jim’s lymph nodes.
Thankfully, the surgeon felt he was able to take care of it, and Jim breathed a sigh of relief. He returned home from the surgery center once again looking forward to the holidays with his family.
But just two days after Christmas, Jim received another phone call from his doctor. Jim listened somberly as he was told they hadn’t got all the cancer. It had metastasized further into his lymph nodes. He was informed he needed to get on a plane and immediately seek treatment at a center in a more populated area.
“That phone call after Christmas in December of 22, came during the worst winter in three decades in Montana. It was dark and cold. The snow was extremely deep and that same darkness, it seeps into your whole being,” Jim said, when recalling the complete isolation that swept over him at that moment.
“We found one airline seat and one only given the short notice. And so I began my cancer treatment journey very much alone… Stepping into the unfamiliar space of a cancer treatment facility for the first time by myself was probably, quite frankly, one of the loneliest and most difficult pieces of this journey.”
Even with the isolation and loneliness, the thought of talking extensively about his disease with anyone—even his adult children—was almost unbearable for Jim. But in July 2023, halfway through his chemotherapy treatments, Jim found himself at a Reel Recovery Retreat in Ennis, Montana, openly sharing the ups and downs of his cancer experience with 11 other men who were also living with cancer.
“I'm an introvert by nature which makes engaging others in intentional, meaningful conversations an uncomfortable spot. So I was really hesitant about going to this Retreat. I didn’t want to go. I don't want to talk to people. I don't want to have these ‘courageous conversations’. It wasn't the fishing that stressed me out, it was the anxiety over having to have conversations that stressed me out,” Jim explained.
Jim’s initial reluctance to attend a Reel Recovery Retreat is not an uncommon response. As men, we’re often not sure how we feel about our disease, so the proposition of talking publicly about it poses uncomfortable questions: What will people think? What will they say? How accepting will they be?
Jim was looking for any excuse he could find not to attend that Retreat in Ennis. But his wife wouldn’t let him get off that easy. She challenged him to meet his apprehensions head-on. “She said, ‘You really should do this. You should give yourself permission to be in a space that you find uncomfortable and foreign. You don't control any of these things and maybe that would be a place where you can actually let your guard down a little bit,’” said Jim.
If you were to ask Jim how he was able to keep fighting and persevere through 18 cycles of chemotherapy treatments, his immediate response would be ‘Martha’. He points out the innumerable sacrifices that caregivers make to support their loved ones throughout the cancer process.
“They have to give up so much of their own life. This becomes a 24/7, 365 all-in journey for those individuals. Martha has paid the toll of my 14-month journey by having to put her life on hold, and shoulder the associated impacts on her own physical health.
“She was there by my bedside while I was receiving treatment. Sitting next to me on the frequent airplane rides to help me in my struggles with mobility. Somebody had to keep track of the bazillion piles of medical information. I could go on and on. So my coming to the Retreat was also a Retreat for her.”
Jim’s testimonial about Martha highlights how vital it is to have a solid support system around you as you confront your disease. What surprises so many Reel Recovery participants is the overwhelming reservoir of hope and encouragement they find after a weekend of fly-fishing and listening to other men talk about their own journeys.
For many of the men who attend a Retreat, it is often the first time they have spoken to anyone about their cancer. Jim spoke about how moving it was to witness the impact the Courageous Conversations had on a fellow participant who was facing a terminal diagnosis.
“There wasn't dismay nor despondency in this individual, but instead he was someone who had come to terms with his situation. But when we got to the Courageous Conversations and the inherit vulnerability they bring, he was like, ‘I don't need any conversations. I just came here to fish’ yet over the Retreat he really changed and ended up fully leaning into those conversations. He was a tough individual who had fought the battle well.
“The team and the participants surrounded him throughout that weekend. He went from ‘I don't want to talk to anybody’ to being fully embraced by the others. It actually breathed life back into him… It was great to see a tough exterior melt just a little bit in a very safe way.”
Jim describes that experience as a sacred moment. It truly encapsulates the mission Reel Recovery set out to accomplish when it was founded 21 years ago—which is to offer men a chance to find healing through the natural wonders of fly-fishing and the realization that they aren’t alone. They are now part of a brotherhood that will continue to support them through all the peaks and valleys in their live with cancer.
If you’ve enjoyed reading Paul’s story and would like to find out more about upcoming fly-fishing retreats, check out our Schedule.
Or perhaps you can donate now to help more men like Paul attend life-changing retreats for a much-needed break from the impact of cancer. Thank you for your kindness!
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