Terry awoke from an eleven-hour surgery at UCSF Medical Center to find that the doctor had removed not only half of his nose but also half of his upper lip, muscle and bone from his right cheek, the shelf of his right eye, six teeth, and part of his hard palate. Terry’s face was attached to his chest with a delto-pectoral flap because so much tissue had been removed from his face.
Just a few months before the surgery, 20-year-old Terry’s life had been smooth sailing. He was a junior at the University of California at Berkeley. Many considered him handsome, and a few years earlier while in high school, he was even voted the homecoming prince. Terry was living life on easy street.
But that year, several people asked if something was wrong with his nose. Terry’s right nostril appeared to be flared out, and he eventually noticed a bump pushing against the inside of his right nostril. When it didn’t go away, he made an appointment to see an ENT specialist. After initially assuring Terry it was likely just a pimple, doctors ordered a biopsy when the spot remained unchanged three weeks later.
Terry was diagnosed with a malignant maxillary tumor, a rare fibrosarcoma. He would later discover how lucky he was that he received the right diagnosis. The bulk of the tumor was removed during the biopsy, but he underwent surgery to excise any remaining tumor cells. Fortunately, the procedure was minor, and with only a few sutures, Terry returned to classes looking like he had been in a fight with someone, not something.
But six months later, Terry discovered a new lump in the same nostril and his cheek began tingling. Numerous specialists confirmed that his tumor had procreated. Prescribing more surgery, his doctor warned him that he might lose part of his nose, but his main concern was saving Terry’s life.
I suppose I was too young to contemplate dying, but the notion of disfigurement was devastating, explained Terry. “My doctor promised to make me ‘street able’ before I left the hospital. What I didn’t realize then was that this was his way of preparing me for a life of disfigurement.”
As I re-entered the world, I noticed adults staring and children pointing—and sometimes giggling—at me. My hospital room had protected me; outside of it, I was vulnerable and exposed. Of course, I cared what other people thought of me; I relished the admiring looks the old Terry had received. I was petrified of potential reactions to the new Terry.
During the following months, Terry encountered many uncomfortable stares that left an indelible mark on his psyche. Even worse, 6,000 rads of daily radiation treatments, followed by forty-eight hours of iridium seed implants began to shrink his facial tissue, magnifying his deformity. His self-esteem sank increasingly lower, and he constantly sought reassurance from others.
Five years and twenty reconstructive surgeries later, Terry was still plagued with insecurity. During his last procedure, he met a woman receiving treatment for cervical cancer at the hospital. They began dating, but after Terry asked for the umpteenth time how she felt about his looks, she finally lost her patience and let him have it.
The bulk of my problem, she informed me, was not my physical appearance, but my emotional insecurity. Her honesty helped me realize that my internal scars were far more disfiguring than my physical ones on the outside ever were, added Terry. Once I got over the devastation that she was no longer interested in me, I began to realize how lucky I was that she had highlighted my greatest weakness. With a fresh perspective, I realized that surgery wasn’t something I could control. What I could control was focusing on rebuilding what was inside.
Terry began examining himself from the inside out and used prayer and support from loved ones to boost his spirit and self-esteem. He found the courage to share his vulnerabilities in support groups. With time, his emotional pain subsided.
We all wrestle with different challenges. For me, it took something devastating to recognize that battle scars make people interesting and wise; trauma helps us appreciate life and prepares us for its inevitable adversities. Today I am thankful for who I am—a much stronger and wiser person than the old Terry.
Terry remains cancer-free 40 years after treatment. He rarely notices people pointing or staring at him anymore. He considers himself fortunate to have experienced a life journey marked by genuine growth and transformation—something he feels truly blessed to have lived through.
For more information about his speaking and latest book, The Resilience Mindset: How Adversity Can Strengthen Individuals, Teams, and Leaders (ECW Press, Inc. publication date 9/9/2025), please visit his website http://www.terryhealey.com.
