Precision medicine is rapidly transforming modern healthcare. It's a personalized approach that tailors prevention and treatment to each individual — moving beyond the traditional one-size-fits-all model.

Colorectal cancer is one area where precision medicine is reshaping the standard of care for patients like Eric Minnesota. 

At 56, Eric was training for an Ironman triathlon when he got a devastating diagnosis — stage 3 colorectal cancer. 

Eric is sharing his inspiring story to raise awareness for National Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month.

Watch: Transforming colon cancer care through precision medicine

Journalists: Broadcast-quality video (3:10) is in the downloads at the end of this post. Please courtesy: "Mayo Clinic" – Read the script.

Man on a mission

Eric has been an athlete his whole life. He's a soft-spoken man with a gentle demeanor and a never-give-up attitude that defines everything he does. "I've competitively raced mountain bikes for the last 20 years," says Eric. "I'm an outdoors person...hiking, fishing, camping, anything outdoors is what I really enjoy."

Eric's dream has long been to compete in an Ironman triathlon, one of the toughest endurance events in the world. Competitors must complete a 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bike ride, and a 26.2-mile run. That's 140.6 miles in one day.

"From a health point of view, I thought I was nearly at the top of my game based on my age," says the Arizona man. "I've been healthy my whole life — no surgeries, no broken bones...I've never taken a sick day from work in my 25-year career."

Toughest challenge yet

Eric was in the midst of training for Ironman Arizona. All was going as planned. Then one day, Eric began having stomach pain. He went to his doctor who delivered a diagnosis Eric never expected.

"He discovered a significant mass. He relayed to me that I should see a colorectal surgeon as soon as possible to have it evaluated and find out what the next steps should be," recalls Eric. Soon after, Eric got his official diagnosis — stage 3 colorectal cancer.

"The plan was to remove my colon and replace it with an ostomy," says Eric. An ostomy is a surgically created opening in the abdomen that allows waste to exit the body into a bag. It may be needed after colon surgery so the body can eliminate waste.

In preparation for surgery, Eric and his wife, Paula, turned to Mayo Clinic in Arizona. "The doctor at Mayo said a team of specialists would convene as a group to review my case. Mayo was quicker than I ever imagined. The following week they called me to discuss my treatment plan," says Eric.

Hope through innovation

Mayo Clinic's treatment plan included more than surgery as an option. The team explained that by using precision medicine, they were able to determine Eric was a candidate for a nonsurgical approach to treatment called immunotherapy.

"By performing genomic sequencing on the patient's blood and the tumor, we were able to identify a precision treatment approach, including immune therapies, that can sometimes allow a patient to avoid the need for complex and life-altering surgeries," says Dr. Jewel Samadder, a gastroenterologist and cancer geneticist with Mayo Clinic's Early Onset and Hereditary Gastrointestinal Cancers Program.

Immunotherapy works by using the body's own immune system to fight the cancer. The nonsurgical treatment is delivered in a series of treatments by IV infusion. "The treatment is surprisingly easy. To be truthful I feel guilty based on the type of treatment that I had for my cancer versus what other individuals go through. It's just a simple infusion that takes less than an hour start to finish," explains Eric.

Crossing the finish line

Eric crossed the finish line of his immunotherapy treatment in six months. The results were a success. A colonoscopy following treatment showed the cancer was gone. "I won the lottery," says Eric. "The stars aligned with my markers and the care team had the expertise. It was incredible. It was all a perfect fit."

"This is a perfect example of why patients come to Mayo Clinic and see multiple physicians in our multidisciplinary cancer clinics and our early-onset program so that we can understand the cause of their cancer, determine the best treatment approaches, including clinical trials, and sometimes avoid complicated life-altering surgeries when possible, as in this patient's case," says Dr. Samadder.

"As soon as we heard about immunotherapy, we had to try it. This aligned with his goals. I'm just over the moon," says Paula.

Eric was able to keep working and training throughout his treatment. He says his only side effect was mild fatigue. "We spent a lot of time together as a family. Just being able to maintain that quality of life through the treatment was irreplaceable. You just can't put a price on that," says Eric.

"We are so grateful to everyone at Mayo Clinic, especially our oncologist Dr. Christina Wu," says Paula. "I would be lost without her. Thanks to Dr. Wu, I have my husband here with me today."

Celebrating life and love

Eric is back to working on his dream of one day becoming an Ironman triathlete. "Giving up is never an option," says Eric. "You have to turn on the switch, and keep going."

As Eric and Paula celebrate life, they are also celebrating their love. "We just had our 32nd wedding anniversary. These moments, these struggles together, it all has just made us stronger." says Eric. "I'm grateful for Mayo, for everything. I came out a better person."

Related stories

• Eric and Paula Minnesota with a special message to Mayo Clinic
• Mayo Clinic Minute: Inside a colonoscopy
• Housecall: Colon cancer screening — know your options
• Mayo Clinic Minute: Warning signs of colorectal cancer in younger adults

The post (VIDEO) Transforming colon cancer care through precision medicine appeared first on Mayo Clinic News Network.

A 27-year-old Arizona man now has new lungs and a wife after holding an impromptu wedding ceremony in a Mayo Clinic hospital ICU room — just days before undergoing double-lung transplant surgery.

Watch: New lungs, new wife for Mayo Clinic transplant patient

Journalists: Broadcast-quality video (3:47) is in the downloads at the end of this post. Please courtesy: "Mayo Clinic News Network." Read the script.

"I had always noticed that, despite being an athlete for my entire life, I never really had the same cardio endurance as my peers. And then later on in my life, it would come to light that I actually had this disease called PPFE, or pleuroparenchymal fibroelastosis, a rare form of lung disease," says Mateo Franco, who lives in Mesa, Arizona.

"By July of 2025, I had to go back into Mayo Clinic in Phoenix because my breathing and my shortness of breath, my fatigue were at an all-time high. That's when they decided that lung transplant was the only viable route," he says. "They put me on ECMO in Phoenix. I got flown on a private medical jet to Rochester."

Dr. Sahar Saddoughi is a lung transplant surgeon at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. She performed Mateo's double-lung transplant.

"A patient on ECMO support is in critical condition. For Mateo, that was keeping him alive, and his only way to get disconnected from the ECMO machine would be to undergo lung transplantation," says Dr. Saddoughi.

Mateo's transplant surgery would be even more challenging because he had pectus excavatum, a condition in which the breastbone is sunken into the chest.

"I had a surgery to correct that in 2023, and they put two metal bars into my chest to correct the shape of my rib cage in my chest wall. That was one big reason why other hospitals had denied me for the lung transplant because it was too complex to have to deal with those bars, plus putting in new lungs," Mateo says. "I really don't think another hospital could have done what Mayo Clinic did."

"That's the beauty of Mayo Clinic. We take on these types of challenging cases, knowing there is a team of experts to care for these patients," says Dr. Saddoughi. "Obviously, there were certain intricacies of the case that made his case particularly difficult. First, he was very sick and inpatient out in Arizona. Two, he had multiple previous surgeries on his chest and right lung, which makes lung transplant surgery more challenging. And then, three, was his chest deformity and reconstruction of this post-lung transplant to allow enough space for his heart, especially the right ventricle." 

Mateo's college sweetheart, Isabella, was at his side in the ICU at the hospital as he waited for donor lungs to become available. A marriage proposal, followed by a wedding at Mayo, soon became a reality.

"We had been together for five-plus years. So, you know, staring down the barrel of a very serious surgery, we figured we wanted to go through that as husband and wife," Mateo says. "The night nurses came in early for their shifts, and they decorated this atrium for us as a little impromptu wedding chapel. They made these cute little rings out of beads. It's pretty much like we eloped. You know, not quite a chapel in Vegas, but it's the next best thing. We got married on July 26, and the transplant happened on July 31."

Dr. Saddoughi says the complexity of Mateo's case necessitated the involvement of a multidisciplinary team, both in an out of the operating room, including the Transplant team, Thoracic Surgery, Plastic Surgery, and Vascular Surgery.  

"We were in the operating room at least eight times during a two-week period," says Dr. Saddoughi. "This is the magic, I would say, of Mayo Clinic, truly in this case, because it's beyond one surgeon or one part of a team. It really involved a huge multidisciplinary team and also the support from Mayo Clinic in Arizona to safely get him here and to care for Mateo postoperatively, as well." 

"Everyone at Mayo Clinic, the care I got was just unparalleled. It was amazing. I know that the job is not easy, but they make it seem easy. They're so good at what they do," Mateo says.

"He had fortitude. He had the fight in him to get through all of this, and that's a big part of Mateo's success," says Dr. Saddoughi.

Three months after his double-lung transplant, Mateo left the care of Mayo Clinic in Rochester as a newlywed and returned home, where he continues to receive follow-up care at Mayo Clinic in Arizona.

"For the first couple weeks, I would keep getting surprised by how deep I was able to breathe. Being able to do the dishes without getting tired, do the laundry — it's just little things, and it just feels incredible," Mateo says. "I would like to thank the donor and the donor's family. They gave me another chance at life, and that's something that I'll forever be grateful for."

"To know that he has that bright future that we wanted for him — that the plan that we tried to execute worked out. I mean, what better joy?" says Dr. Saddoughi.

"Dr. Saddoughi is a complete lifesaver, the way she, you know, took a chance on something that other hospitals, other doctors, said, 'No, we can't do this.' She said, 'Yeah, watch me.' And she nailed it. She knocked it out of the park," Mateo says.

And he's looking forward to enjoying his new life as a married man.

"Now that I can really function, the world's our oyster. We can do anything," Mateo says.

The post (VIDEO) New lungs, new wife for Mayo Clinic transplant patient appeared first on Mayo Clinic News Network.

Randy McKnight makes award-winning barbecue, runs marathons and owns a small business. He puts his heart into everything he does — just not the heart he had when he was born.

Randy was among the first 10 heart transplant recipients at Mayo Clinic in Florida, a program that is now marking its 25^th anniversary.

Watch: 'Live for today': Looking at life nearly 25 years after a heart transplant

Journalists: Broadcast-quality video pkg (2:14) is in the downloads at the end of the post. Please courtesy: "Mayo Clinic News Network." Read the script.

"It was in the summer of 1998," Randy says. "We were having a lot of fires in Jacksonville along I-95, and (I was) having a hard time breathing."

Randy was 35 years old when his care team in Jacksonville, Florida, discovered he had an enlarged heart.

"I was in full-blown heart failure with fluid in my lungs," Randy says. "(My doctor) basically said, 'You need a heart transplant.' I couldn't believe it."

Randy was placed on the transplant list in Rochester, Minnesota, and spent almost three years traveling back and forth for appointments, waiting for a heart.

"My son must have been 8 or 9, and I knew that I had to survive to help raise him and support him," Randy says.

Then, in 2001, Mayo Clinic started a heart transplant program in Jacksonville, which gave Randy a chance to be closer to home.

"I met Dr. Yip when the program first started, and from day one, he and I have connected," Randy says. "I've always felt like I've had a personal connection with the team here, and it just made the whole process so much easier."

After listing and waiting several more months, the day finally came.

"I had my heart transplant on May 27, 2002," Randy says.

"You have someone who is literally on death's doorstep to be able to live a full, healthy life, back to things that they want to do, going back to work, raising their children, going to graduations, going to weddings, raising their grandchildren. That is satisfying," says Dr. Daniel Yip, a Mayo Clinic cardiologist who helped start the heart transplant program in Florida.

Over the last quarter century, Dr. Yip has seen progress in heart transplantation — from advances in medications to new options for patients with the greatest need.

"Being able to expand the donor pool using organs that, in the past, we would say maybe we shouldn't think about using them, but knowing with time, with research, with innovation, with technology, to be able to use these organs," Dr. Yip says. "And now we're able to go a lot farther, even across the country, to be able to get the right heart for a patient. I think that's the biggest thing — to be able to serve patients who need our help."

According to the United Network for Organ Sharing (UNOS), nearly 4,000 people in the U.S. are waiting for a heart transplant.

Randy is grateful for the years he's been given, and he's made it his mission to help others.

"My quality of life before transplant — being sick, being limited — was really hard because I'm go, go all the time," Randy says. "Just learn to live each day for today, live every day for today and appreciate life."

The post (VIDEO) ‘Live for today’: Looking at life nearly 25 years after a heart transplant appeared first on Mayo Clinic News Network.

With a failing heart and little hope of healing, Alan Lewis sunk into depression, gaining 330 pounds. After he came to Mayo, bariatric surgery enabled the transplant he'd sought for so many years.   

Alan Lewis was lying on the floor — the only position that eased his discomfort — watching a football game. When a Mayo Clinic commercial came on, the tagline seemed to leap off the screen.

"You know where to go."

With heart failure sapping his strength, Alan had begun to doubt there was an "other side" to his condition. At age 41, he'd already lived a decade with a poorly pumping heart, diagnosed during a hospital visit for a broken ankle. 

For years, Alan had relied on a left ventricular assist device, or LVAD, to help his heart circulate blood through his body. After the first one malfunctioned, he received a second device in 2018.

What Alan really needed was a new heart.

Even after bariatric surgery helped him lose weight, he still wasn't added to the transplant list. "When we'd ask about transplant, our care team would just say, 'Oh, he's doing fine. Just keep doing what you're doing,'" says his wife, Vida.

As months became years, Alan's hope of healing waned. His mental health spiraled.

"I was a nervous wreck," he recalls. "What if the LVAD malfunctioned? What if there was a power failure? I was scared to go places, worried about backup batteries. I was in my head 24/7. It was torture."

Deeply depressed, Alan gained 330 pounds during the pandemic, reversing his previous weight loss. Without a clear path forward, he resigned himself to dying.

Then, in 2022, Alan saw the Mayo commercial — and Vida saw an opportunity. She made the decision for them. They were going to Rochester.

A journey toward hope

After driving from Chicago, weak and rapidly declining, Alan sought help from Mayo Clinic.

There, Vida's long-simmering concern was confirmed —a tough-to-kill bacteria had infected the wiring that linked his LVAD to its external battery. The battery for his defibrillator was also dead, leaving him vulnerable to potentially deadly arrhythmias.

Right away, Alan received IV antibiotics, a new defibrillator and an introduction to the transplant team. "Day one, they spoke of transplant," says Vida. "I was shocked."

At his first follow-up visit, Sarah Schettle, a physician assistant on the LVAD team, could see the emotional strain of all that Alan and Vida had been through. "There was a lot of hesitancy — 'Will Mayo accept us?'" she recalls. "I also remember the hopefulness, the desire to know what was possible here."

Recognizing that Alan needed complex, multidisciplinary care, the team began formulating a plan.

Within two weeks, the couple relocated to Rochester — and just one year into marriage, Vida unflinchingly pivoted to her new role as caregiver.

"It was embedded in me to love as hard and as much as you can," she says.

Vida vowed to do that for Alan.

Preparing for tomorrow

The team said Alan needed to adopt a healthier lifestyle before a second bariatric surgery — a necessary step toward transplant. So Vida signed them up for a gym. She walked next to him on a treadmill, urging him on. She made healthy meals. She pored over the lengthy care plan, still shocked that they had one.    

"Back home, no one gave us clear answers. How long would he have the LVAD? Could he ever get a transplant?" she says. "At Mayo, we never experienced that. The focus was always on getting him well enough for a transplant, like he deserved to be transplanted."

Still, there was fear that the new heart wouldn’t happen. Sensing Alan's struggle, Adrian da Silva de Abreu, M.D., Ph.D., one of his cardiologists, spent an hour at his bedside, mostly listening.

"I'd never seen a doctor take that time," says Alan. "I put it all out there, and I could tell he was hearing me."

Peace replaced his once-crippling anxiety. At last, he knew his team wanted what was best for him. As Vida says, "They had a vision. They had a plan. It was healthcare like I've never seen before."

A risk with great reward

Alan's first bariatric surgery shrunk his stomach to the size of a banana.

To help him lose the weight he'd regained, Omar Ghanem, M.D., a bariatric surgeon, planned to reroute part of Alan's small intestine so food would bypass a long segment of his bowel. Known as a modified duodenal switch, this would reduce how many calories and nutrients he absorbed and alter the secretion of hunger-related hormones.

Dr. Ghanem knew the already complex surgery would be even more challenging in Alan's case.  

With his heart essentially outside his body, monitoring — and maintaining — his vitals would be difficult. Blood thinners to prevent clots in his LVAD would also elevate his risk of bleeding. Then there was the looming infection, suppressed but still active, only curable if the LVAD was removed.  

Seven Mayo Clinic teams — from Infectious Diseases to Anesthesiology — worked together to help Alan beat the odds.

"Where else do you have all this expertise in one place? I don't think anything like this can be done outside of a place like Mayo," says Dr. Ghanem. "Here we're able to safely push the limits."

Knowing this path was his best chance at healing, Alan and Vida agreed to go forward.

Despite its complexity, the revision was a success, and so was the recovery. Within months, Alan lost enough weight to qualify for a heart. He was finally on the transplant list.  

Moving forward at last

Six weeks later, a middle-of-the-night call brought Alan back to Mayo Clinic.

After years of heart failure, two LVADs, two bariatric surgeries, dozens of pounds lost and hundreds of tears shed, Alan was receiving another chance at life. He was receiving a new heart.

Less than five hours after opening his chest, Philip Spencer, M.D., a cardiovascular and transplant surgeon, brought Alan to the "other side" of heart failure — that place he'd once thought didn't exist.  

"We had an infection to deal with. And there was scarring within his chest," says Dr. Spencer. "But, once the LVAD was out, it went very well."  

IV steroids enabled his body to accept the organ, and with the LVAD out, his infection could finally clear. Even from his hospital bed, Alan felt his confidence returning.

"I'd had this yoke on me. I couldn't move without the LVAD. I couldn't bathe without it. I couldn't eat without it. It was always present," he says. "Mentally, I'd been down so long. Now I had freedom."

For the first time in years, there were no wires to wrestle with. There was no battery to worry about.

Alan could be himself again.

A new life for Alan

With Alan's heart fully functioning, the couple is now back in Chicago, enjoying a renewed zeal for life.

For Alan, that means showing his gratitude for everyone who supported him — his family, his close friends and, of course, Vida. Every day, he focuses on caring for her in every way possible.  

"When I wake up, I start catering to her," he says. "She had to cook and clean. She helped bathe me and put on my shoes and socks. It's a joy for me to be able to do things for her now."

During the night, Alan sometimes reaches across the mattress, making sure Vida is still there, even though he knows she always will be. She is his safe person, and Mayo Clinic is the safe place that showed him what healthcare should be.

Both their hearts remain in Minnesota, where hope first began to beat, strong and steady, in Alan's chest. The tagline from a football game ad — "You know where to go" — still feels like a summons.

"To have so many people involved in your care, and each one be a beautiful experience, is so rare," says Vida. "God has blessed him, and Mayo has been there for him. We want to move back because Rochester feels like home, you know?"

Related story:

• New year, new focus on health: Mayo Clinic expert highlights effective treatment options for obesity

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Evenings in the Staal household often carried a delicate unpredictability. After a full school day — and as Ethan's medication began to wear off — the shift from playful to overwhelmed could happen in seconds. Ethan has attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), a condition that can make emotional regulation especially challenging.  

Ethan's feelings sometimes escalated faster than he could manage. In those difficult moments, his parents say, he became "not accessible" — often needing close to an hour before they could help guide him back to calm. 

Their search for specialized care led them to Mayo Clinic, where child and adolescent psychiatrist Magdalena Romanowicz, M.D., introduced the family to Parent-Child Interaction Therapy. She also invited them to participate in a first-of-its-kind study powered by a smartwatch and artificial intelligence (AI). 

The smartwatch technology was designed to help anticipate when a child was nearing emotional overload, giving parents a chance to step in and defuse the situation before it escalated. For the Staals, the technology offered a clear sense of what was happening inside Ethan just early enough to help him through it. 

"It was a game-changer," Jared Staal says. "We still have challenges, but now we see them coming and we see them through a whole different lens — we didn't always know how to support him in those moments, and now we do." 

A window into the moments before escalation

During the four-month study, Ethan wore a smartwatch that tracked his heart rate, movement and sleep. When the system detected patterns that suggested his stress was building, it sent an alert to Sarah or Jared's phone. 

"It gave us a warning that something was coming," Sarah says. Instead of reacting at the peak of Ethan's distress, they could intervene earlier with calm reassurance, redirection and other techniques they learned in their 12 Parent-Child Interaction Therapy sessions. 

"We could help him recover in 5 to 10 minutes," she says. "And we could have our evenings again as a family." 

What the study revealed 

The Staals' experience reflects the study's overall findings. In the clinical trial, smartwatch alerts prompted parents to respond within four seconds on average to early signs of escalating stress. Their children's severe tantrums were shortened by about 11 minutes — roughly half the duration seen with standard therapy alone. 

The broader context underscores the need for new approaches. Nearly 1 in 5 U.S. children lives with a mental, behavioral or emotional health disorder, yet the number of pediatric mental health specialists has not kept pace with demand. Smartwatch technology represents one possible way to extend support into the home by helping families recognize early changes in a child's stress levels. 

Across a shared wall 

The technology behind the alerts emerged from an unexpected spark. 

Electrical and computer engineer Arjun Athreya, Ph.D., worked just steps from the Children's Hospital Psychiatry Unit at Mayo Clinic — a single shared wall separating his world of algorithms and data from the clinical rooms where children and their families experienced some of their hardest moments.  

Passing conversations with the psychiatrists next door became more formal collaborations as the team began to ask: What happens inside a child's body in the minutes before an outburst? And could those invisible shifts be measured? 

With support from Julia Shekunov, M.D., Medical Director of the inpatient unit, and help from the nursing staff, the team launched a small pilot to explore those questions. 
 
From that work, Dr. Athreya and his team developed an AI model designed to recognize the earliest physiological changes that precede escalating behavior. That work became the foundation for the smartwatch system now being explored with families. 

A family's early role in the research 

One of the first families to try out the smartwatch system was Sawra and Matthew Maurer and their son, Theo.  

For the Maurers, the challenges with Theo were mounting. Calls from kindergarten had become a near-weekly routine: "Theo is having a hard time. Could you come get him?" Around that same time, Theo was diagnosed with ADHD, which helped explain the emotional dysregulation and sudden behavioral shifts they were seeing.  

Theo could slide from being engaged in an activity to overwhelmed in an instant — sweeping crayons off tables or having severe tantrums that sometimes required teachers to guide classmates out of the room. "It was a very difficult year," Sawra recalls. 

Enrolling in the early smartwatch feasibility study gave her new insight.  

During the study, Theo wore a watch each day that collected his physiological data — heart rate, movement, sleep patterns — while the family logged episodes in an AI-powered app. 

That data helped researchers understand what Theo's body was doing in the moments before he became dysregulated. By matching those physiological signals with what was happening behaviorally, the team could begin identifying the subtle shifts that happen as a child moves from calm toward distress and then back to calm. 

Theo's data helped teach the system what those early changes look like in real-world settings. 

Sawra didn't receive alerts in that early phase, but she could see the information the watch recorded. "The idea is wonderful," she says. "Being able to detect when a child is heading toward a severe tantrum would be a phenomenal thing for a parent." 

Moving the research forward

Future studies will focus on improving the model, testing the system in larger groups and examining how real-time physiological data can inform care outside the clinic. As that work continues, the experiences of families like the Staals and the Maurers will help guide how the technology evolves and how it can support children in everyday life. 

Related article

Mayo Clinic smartwatch system helps parents shorten, defuse children’s severe tantrums early

Mayo Clinic researchers have developed a smartwatch-based alert system that signals parents at the earliest signs of a tantrum in children with emotional and behavioral disorders — prompting them to intervene before it intensifies. Read more.

The post Families at Mayo Clinic explore how a smartwatch can give early warnings of severe tantrums  appeared first on Mayo Clinic News Network.

For Loren Vinal, the holidays have always carried a gentle kind of magic. Loren's hometown of Corning, New York, and his winters on Jekyll Island, Georgia, offered two peaceful places where music and community shaped his daily life.

In late 2017, everything changed. After months of worsening shortness of breath and repeated misdiagnoses, Loren — a guitarist with 40 years of experience — flew to Nashville, Tennessee, to play a show with a friend. Loren ended up in the emergency department before he could play — diagnosed with advanced heart failure. He remembers the shock of that moment. 

"Out of the blue, my life completely shifted," Loren says. 

After receiving that diagnosis, Loren spent 13 days in the hospital in Nashville. Once stable, he returned to upstate New York and continued care at a local hospital where specialists determined he needed a left ventricular assist device (LVAD). The LVAD is a mechanical pump that supports the heart by helping the left ventricle circulate blood throughout the body.  

After about seven years with the LVAD, new complications in 2024 meant it was time to revisit transplant. By then, Lorena already knew about Mayo Clinic in Florida. Years earlier, he had been transferred there from a nearby hospital while wintering on Jekyll Island because smaller hospitals were not equipped to manage patients with the LVAD.

Loren never forgot the care he received then. 

"I was so impressed with the dedication and professionalism at Mayo Clinic," Loren says. 

When he learned he was a strong candidate for heart transplant, he says the decision to pursue care at Mayo Clinic felt right. 

Heart transplant

Loren received his first heart transplant on July 1, 2024. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, Loren would need another new heart, and he was relisted on the transplant waiting list in May 2025. He spent nine and a half weeks waiting in the hospital before receiving his second heart transplant on July 19, 2025. 

Waiting was difficult, but he felt supported at every turn. Today, Loren shares that he exercises and plays music again — feeling stronger with each passing day.  

"A good working heart changes everything," Loren says. 

Loren speaks openly about the gratitude he feels toward his donors who gave him the incredible gift of life. "It is the greatest gift you can bestow on another human," he says. 

Throughout his journey, Loren learned more about the scope of Mayo Clinic's commitment to transplantation. As one of the largest and most comprehensive transplant programs in the world, Mayo Clinic Transplant Center provides seamless care across heart, lung, liver, kidney, pancreas and bone marrow transplantation for both adults and children. 

The transplant center teams in Arizona, Florida and Minnesota work together to advance innovation, research and education, shaping the future of transplantation worldwide. 

Mayo Clinic also leads research in organ preservation, living donation and regenerative medicine, guided by a vision that no patient should die while waiting for a transplant. These advances have helped expand access for patients with complex needs and support successful outcomes like Loren's. 

"Loren showed extraordinary resilience," says Dr. Daniel Yip, transplant cardiologist at Mayo Clinic in Florida. "Even in the face of profound challenges, he remained engaged and hopeful. Our team was committed to walking every step of this with him."  

As Loren looks toward the new year with a new heart, he feels a deeper joy in the moments he once took for granted: a strong, steady heartbeat; music returning to his fingertips; and time with the people he loves.

"I sincerely thank everyone involved, and I hope to continue to pay it forward," Loren says. 

His story now carries its own quiet holiday light — hope renewed, life restored and gratitude that stretches far beyond the season.  

The post New heart helps Loren Vinal return to music, life he loves appeared first on Mayo Clinic News Network.

ROCHESTER, Minn. — A multidisciplinary surgical team at Mayo Clinic has successfully treated an exceptionally rare and life-threatening cancer that invaded a patient's heart and airway. The procedure combined advanced cardiac surgery with complex airway reconstruction and represents a significant achievement in modern cancer care. 

Tami Channel's thyroid cancer was so advanced that her family had begun planning hospice care. The tumor had severely compromised her airway and had encased her carotid artery and jugular vein, two of the body's most vital blood vessels.  

Primary cancers of the heart are extremely rare. Most tumors that appear in the heart are benign, and malignant cardiac tumors such as sarcomas account for only a small fraction of all cancers. Airway tumors involving the throat or trachea are also uncommon and often detected late because early symptoms can resemble routine respiratory issues. When a malignant growth extends into both the heart and the airway, the risks multiply quickly because the tumor can narrow or block breathing passages and interfere with the heart's ability to function. 

Faced with a tumor that had grown into vital structures and left the patient's airway nearly the width of a toothpick, the care team, including Mabel Ryder, M.D., a Mayo Clinic endocrinologist, and Eric Moore, M.D., a Mayo Clinic head and neck surgeon, recognized that conventional treatment would not be enough. Tami needed a highly complex surgery — and it needed to happen quickly. As a matter of priority, Tami would undergo an unscheduled thoracotomy and bypass, an emergency open-chest operation that requires opening the chest cavity, supporting circulation through a heart-lung machine, and working around critical airways and blood vessels. Few hospitals could coordinate such a demanding procedure so quickly. 

"We were able to make it happen because it needed to be done," Dr. Moore says. "That's the Mayo difference." 

The operating room reflected Mayo's integrated model: anesthesiology, perfusion, bronchoscopy, cardiothoracic surgery, and head and neck surgery, with each discipline contributing seamlessly. 

"It felt like a choreographed ballet," Dr. Moore says. "This kind of multidisciplinary precision doesn't just happen — it's the Mayo model in action." 

During the same operation, specialists reconstructed the airway to restore safe breathing. Procedures of this complexity rely on close coordination among cardiac surgeons, thoracic and airway surgeons, ear, nose and throat specialists, anesthesiologists, oncologists, and critical care teams. Mayo Clinic Comprehensive Cancer Center experts are uniquely positioned to manage these cases because they can move quickly from diagnosis to complex surgery and recovery. 

This successful intervention shows what is possible when specialists collaborate on rare cancers that cross organ systems.  

### 

About Mayo Clinic  
Mayo Clinic is a nonprofit organization committed to innovation in clinical practice, education and research, and providing compassion, expertise and answers to everyone who needs healing. Visit the Mayo Clinic News Network for additional Mayo Clinic news. 

About Mayo Clinic Comprehensive Cancer Center   
Designated as a comprehensive cancer center by the National Cancer Institute, Mayo Clinic Comprehensive Cancer Center is defining the cancer center of the future, focused on delivering the world's most exceptional patient-centered cancer care for everyone. At Mayo Clinic Comprehensive Cancer Center, a culture of innovation and collaboration is driving research breakthroughs in cancer detection, prevention and treatment to change lives.  

Media contact:  

• Julie Ferris-Tillman, Ph.D., Mayo Clinic Communications, newsbureau@mayo.edu  

The post Mayo Clinic integrated care enables treatment for rare, complex cancer      appeared first on Mayo Clinic News Network.

When a hockey coach and teacher in Minnesota experienced a cardiac event, a multidisciplinary team at Mayo Clinic helped him get back in the game through teamwork and quality care

On a winter Sunday in Owatonna, Minnesota, Ryan Harrison, a hockey coach and teacher, was wrapping up a youth game with his son, Justin. As the family loaded gear into the car and prepared to head home, Ryan pressed the start button and immediately slumped forward, unresponsive.

In an instant, everything changed. Chris, his wife, tried to wake him, pulling on him and calling his name, while their teenage son dialed 911. Justin ran outside the car to flag down help and, in a remarkable stroke of timing, came across a supervising nurse from Owatonna Hospital who had just left the arena. 

The nurse began CPR immediately. Her intervention became the first link in a series of lifesaving events that would involve two hospitals, dozens of specialists and some of the most advanced emergency cardiac techniques available. 

"Somebody was watching over him," Chris says. "The right people were in the right place at exactly the right time."

Paramedics transported Ryan to Owatonna Hospital, where he coded again. Dense fog ruled out airlifting Ryan, and he was rushed to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, by ground ambulance.

Emergency intervention at Mayo Clinic

The cardiac catheterization laboratory at Mayo was waiting for Ryan when he arrived in critical condition. Specialists quickly uncovered a completely blocked coronary artery and restored blood flow within minutes. But despite their swift action, his heart was still failing. 

The team placed an Impella device — a tiny pump that steps in for the heart when it cannot pump enough blood — in Ryan. When his oxygen levels continued to decline despite the device being in place, the extracorporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO) team was called in to provide the highest level of life support. 

"This is precisely why our teams prepare the way we do," says Dr. Gurpreet Sandhu, a Mayo Clinic cardiologist. "When a patient like Ryan arrives, every link in the chain activates instantly. People from multiple specialties converge without hesitation. That kind of teamwork is what changes outcomes."

Even with the blockage cleared and mechanical support in place, Ryan remained in a fragile state as he was transferred to the intensive care unit (ICU). Early neurological tests offered a quiet but meaningful hope — he could move his fingers and toes.

"That tiny movement meant everything," Chris says. "It told us Ryan was still in there fighting."

A dangerous turn

Two days later, a CT scan revealed a concerning blood clot. The scan also showed that Ryan was born with an unusual arterial configuration: a single shared artery supplying blood to his stomach, liver and bowels. Because of this rare anatomy, the clot created a complete blockage, leaving no alternate pathway for blood flow. 

Ryan still needed the Impella for circulatory support, but it was also putting pressure on the artery. Taking the device out could inadvertently move the clot into the aorta, creating the possibility that it might reach his brain or heart.

"His anatomy and the clot location created a perfect storm," says Dr. Jill Colglazier, a Mayo Clinic vascular surgeon. "We couldn't move forward without the entire care team planning every step together."

A multispecialty group of cardiologists, vascular surgeons, anesthesiologists, intensivists and ECMO specialists devised a creative plan in which the cardiac catheterization team would establish an alternative circulatory pathway by placing a device in Ryan's upper chest. Following this, the Impella would be removed, allowing vascular surgery to safely restore abdominal blood flow.

"What made this possible was not one specialty, but five or six working simultaneously," Dr. Colglazier says. "Everyone brought their expertise, and everyone trusted one another completely."

The surgery lasted nearly six hours and required careful timing, real-time communication and absolute precision. When it was complete, blood flow had been successfully restored.

Turning the corner in the ICU

The next morning, Ryan woke up alert and responsive. It was a pivotal moment for both his family and the medical team.

Now the focus shifted to determining whether his heart could function without the use of ECMO. The assessment required a multidisciplinary team at the bedside, including cardiologists, cardiac surgeons, ICU physicians, heart failure specialists, anesthesiologists and echocardiography experts.

Dr. Philip Spencer, a Mayo Clinic cardiovascular surgeon who leads the ECMO and Mechanical Circulatory Support programs, recalls the moment they tested Ryan's heart function. 

"When we slowly reduce ECMO flow, we're essentially asking the heart, ‘Can you take over now?'" Dr. Spencer says. "It is a powerful moment when you see it respond. There's a sense of collective relief because every team has been working toward that one goal."

Dr. Spencer credits the seamless teamwork for Ryan's recovery. 

"It's not a handoff from one specialty to the next," Dr. Spencer says. "It's multiple teams taking care of the same patient at the same time, each doing what they do best."

Ryan's heart held steady. The ECMO was removed, and for the first time since his collapse, he was breathing, beating and healing completely on his own.

Rebuilding strength and confidence

With the immediate danger behind him, Ryan began rehabilitation. He tackled small but meaningful steps: sitting up, walking short distances, lifting light weights and completing cognitive exercises. The ICU nurses and therapists encouraged him through each milestone.

One of the things Ryan remembers most was how often staff returned to check on him — even when they were not assigned to his care that day.

"They didn't just keep me alive," Ryan says. "They lifted me up. I felt like I was everyone's patient, not just one person's. Their teamwork made me feel like I wasn't doing this alone."

Chris felt that support too, 

"They cared about Ryan as a person," Chris says. "They cared about us as a family. That kind of compassion can't be taught."

Ryan completed cardiac rehabilitation, regained his stamina and later received an implantable cardioverter-defibrillator as a long-term safety measure. Slowly, life returned to the rhythm he recognized.

Life renewed

Today, Ryan walks several miles a day, has returned to golfing and is coaching hockey again. Everyday moments, such as watching Justin skate, visiting his daughter at college and waking up next to Chris, have taken on deeper meaning. He understands just how close he came to losing them.

When he reflects on his survival, he thinks about the coordinated efforts of people who may never meet one another but were nonetheless part of the same chain: the nurse in the parking lot, first responders, Owatonna clinicians, Mayo's interventional cardiology team, ECMO specialists, vascular and cardiac surgeons, anesthesiologists, ICU nurses, rehabilitation therapists, and many others.

When Ryan tells his players, "We, not me," he now understands the phrase in a way only someone who has relied on an entire community of caregivers can truly understand.

"They gave me my husband back," Chris says. "I will never forget that."

And Ryan, back in the game he loves, simply says, "Every day is a gift."

Watch a video of Ryan Harrison's story

The post VIDEO: Hockey coach back in the game after cardiac event, thanks to teamwork, quality care appeared first on Mayo Clinic News Network.

With support from a Mayo Clinic Community Contributions grant, the Peer Recovery Program at Mayo Clinic's Emergency Department in Rochester, Minnesota, helps patients struggling with substance use find hope and healing.  

Seven years ago, Cedric Weathersbee spent many nights on a family friend's front porch. Although he couldn't go inside for breakfast, he was grateful for a spot to sleep. 

At age 37, after years of alcoholism, Cedric was homeless, out of work and estranged from his family. Without a clear path forward, he began contemplating suicide. "I couldn't see my life without drinking," he says, "and I knew I didn't want a life with drinking in it."  

Then he arrived at the Saint Marys Emergency Department (ED) at Mayo Clinic in Rochester.  

Cedric doesn't know how he got there, but he does remember meeting Cheryl Laugen, a peer support specialist from Recovery is Happening. With funding from a Mayo Clinic Community Contributions grant, the Rochester nonprofit provides on-call support for ED patients facing substance-related crises.  

It's by design that every peer support specialist has their own story of substance use.  

"They bring the compassion and empathy of lived experience to the bedside," says Dr. Robert Hyde, an emergency medicine physician at Mayo Clinic.  

Right away, Cheryl could see Cedric had hit rock bottom. She knew how critical it was to meet him there.  

"For individuals like us, these moments of desperation are when our brain says, 'I have to make changes,'" she says. "But that window of opportunity is often very small."  

As Cedric shared, Cheryl smiled. That little human kindness, long absent from his life, gave him courage.  

"There was no judgment. There was no telling me what to do," says Cedric. "Cheryl instilled hope in me that things could be better. She motivated me to try to move forward." 

A community of support 

Substance use is a key community health priority for Olmsted County. Often intersecting with needs related to housing, employment and mental health, it requires a coordinated network of support. 

"ED visits manage acute problems, but substance use disorder needs long-term management," says Dr. Hyde. "Peer supporters are a bridge to recovery. Often, they're the most impactful part of the patient's visit." 

After addressing immediate needs, peer support specialists can help patients create a recovery plan, connect them to local resources, or even accompany them to treatment facilities.  

It was Cheryl who told Cedric about Doc's Recovery House, a sober living community, where he moved after detoxing at a rehabilitation facility. Eleven months later, he was ready to begin rebuilding his life.  

But Cedric's journey to healing — and helping others — wasn't finished yet. 

Discovering a new purpose 

Some months later, Cedric began drifting away from his support system. When a bad day at work became a bad week, he checked into an extended stay hotel and started drinking. Even after relocating to his brother's house, he didn't stop — and soon he was facing an ultimatum: sober up or leave.  

Cedric decided to detox one more time.  

As his body recovered, his mind wandered to all the times he could have died or gone to jail but hadn't. He'd tried to quit drinking 30 or 40 times, and despite so many relapses, he was still here.  

Could there be a purpose behind it all?  

"There were just too many coincidences," Cedric says. "I concluded that something greater than myself was looking out for me." After a lifetime of atheism, "that cracked the door to spirituality," which led to long-term sobriety. He'll celebrate his sixth "sober birthday" in February.  

His spiritual revelation also led to a realization — he wanted to devote his life to serving others.  

Shortly after detoxing, Cedric took a class that taught him to support others as Cheryl had supported him. After joining Doc's Recovery House as a peer support specialist, he also became a licensed alcohol and drug counselor. Now the men's program manager, Cedric has guided hundreds of residents toward healing.  

"It brings me great joy to see that man I met in the Emergency Department giving back in a meaningful way — to see how far he's come and talk to people he's helped," says Cheryl. "He's come full circle."  

Although he doesn't work in the hospital setting, Cedric emulates Cheryl in every interaction.    

"I try to support and empower others to do what they want to do," he says. "It's about walking alongside them."  

Every time he sees Cheryl at a recovery event, Cedric thinks about their first encounter at Saint Marys.   

"That was the first step toward where I am today," he says. "I'm really grateful to be in Rochester. I'm grateful I'm sober. What I have now is happiness and actual purpose."  

Learn more 

• Visit Rochester Recovers, a Mayo-supported website, to find recovery resources in the Rochester, Minnesota area.  

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After 41 years with Crohn's disease, Moi Monroe underwent ostomy surgery at Mayo Clinic in Florida. A few years later, he cycled from Alaska to Florida, and his bag didn’t slow him down.  

When Moi Monroe walked into Mayo's ostomy class, his first thought was, "What am I doing here?"  

The next day, he was scheduled for surgery to remove his colon and add an ostomy, often called a "bag," to his side. At age 62, Moi was one of the youngest patients in the room. Yet he had been suffering from Crohn's disease for over half his life.  

For most of that time, it had only affected the first few inches of his colon. His latest scan, however, revealed it was rapidly spreading.  

It had seemed like the right time to act, but as Moi looked around the classroom, he felt a flicker of doubt. 

Then the instructor began to speak. When she revealed she was an "ostomate," relief washed over Moi. The day before, the woman who'd helped with his paperwork had shared the same. Their stories felt like a sign he was in the right place. 

That sense deepened as Moi opened his ostomy kit. Inside was a pamphlet with a photo of people swimming and cycling.  

"I could hardly get on a bike anymore," he says. "I'd wondered if I was going to be able to do that after the surgery. This felt like huge confirmation. After that, I never looked back."  

Moi was ready to move forward — and with Mayo's help, he'd soon be back on two wheels.  

Making his home at Mayo 

Moi's health journey began in 1978 when he was diagnosed, at age 21, with Crohn's disease. For years, he saw a local physician. But as he got older, Moi wanted continuity of care across several specialties.  

He found that at Mayo Clinic in Florida. That's also where he met Donna Shelton, a nurse practitioner in Gastroenterology, who quickly became his advocate, or as he says, his "angel."  

Shelton never failed to answer his questions quickly. As new drugs emerged, she helped him decide which ones to try. "She was just always there," says Moi. 

Unfortunately, Moi's disease didn't respond to treatment. In 2019, after his Crohn's suddenly spread, they began to discuss surgery more seriously.  

Both knew his disease was stealing his joy. Too often, he was saying "no" to things he loved, like playing with his grandkids or hopping on his bike. An ostomy could give him back so much, but it was also a permanent decision that takes time to embrace.   

"It's a big step to take out the colon," says Dr. Michael Picco, the Mayo Clinic gastroenterologist who has cared for Moi for nearly 20 years. "Patients might think an ostomy will be an awful thing. But it actually gives them control again — a much more predictable lifestyle."  

After 41 years of Crohn's, and lots of prayer and research, Moi said "yes" to surgery. "He jumped in and faced it the way he does everything else — to the 'nth' degree," says Shelton. "He's always all in."  

This didn't surprise Dr. Picco, who describes Moi as courageous and forward-thinking, always looking for the next step toward healing.  

Moi saw that same commitment from his care team. "You never feel like they've forgotten who you are," he says. "If you have four appointments in a day, each one is going to know everything about your medical history. And they'll tie it all together."  

Finding Moi again 

In late 2019, Dr. Luca Stocchi, a Mayo Clinic colon and rectal surgeon, removed Moi's entire colon and created an opening, or stoma, in his side. Connecting Moi's small intestine allowed waste to exit into a bag.  

"The next day, all the pain from my Crohn's was gone," says Moi.  

His only regret was not doing it sooner.   

Just a few months later, Moi was cycling cross-country with a buddy. Then, in 2023, the pair planned a 4,500-mile trip from Alaska to Florida to raise money for childhood cancer awareness.  

Without a colon, which plays a key role in hydration, Moi knew the journey would be difficult. But he was determined to get back to doing what he loved. "Patients with this indestructible attitude are such an inspiration to me," says Dr. Stocchi. "Moi was not going to let the bag stop him." 

For 45 days, Moi cycled 100 miles a day, pushing his body harder than ever. His bag stayed tucked against his side with the help of a special belt, even across the rugged terrain of British Columbia.  

Not once did he have to worry about abdominal pain — he could just enjoy the ride.  

Expanding his horizons  

Moi hasn't stopped there. Other postsurgical wins include catching 500-pound bluefin tuna in Canada and reeling in sailfish in Costa Rica.  

"I can do anything," says Moi. "I can go offshore fishing all day. I can ride my bike for a hundred miles at a time. I can travel with my wife without holding anyone back."     

These days, that means lots of visits to see their grandkids. "They were growing up before my eyes, and I couldn't share the joy with them," he says, teary-eyed at the memory. Now, "Papa," as the kids call Moi, is no longer hurting on the sidelines.  

This, he says, is the greatest outcome of his surgery.  

"I really can't ask for anything more," he says. "Thanks to Mayo, I've gotten my life back."  

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