When Michael Lemieux, 51, was diagnosed with small-cell carcinoma, an aggressive form of cancer, doctors told him that the tumour — the size of a Coke can — on his liver was inoperable. They also told him that without chemotherapy, he’d have about three months to live. With treatment, he had maybe a year.

That was nearly three years ago.

Within a week of the diagnosis, Michael started chemotherapy, a combination of two powerful drugs. After the first treatment, he developed a high fever and was hospitalized. After the fifth round of chemo, he had a heart attack. After recovering — he had an angioplasty — he went through another eight rounds of chemotherapy. They had no effect. He also underwent radiation therapy to treat — successfully — a small tumour in his right eye.

Then, Michael’s oncologist referred him to a specialist in carcinoid tumours in Montréal, who gave him some surprising news: “The doctor said, ‘We can take out that tumour,’” Michael recalls. “And he did, along with 63% of my liver.”

Michael is now scheduled to try a therapy called direct targeted radiation, in which radioactive material is injected directly into the tumour.

Despite the rollercoaster of treatments and emotions of the past three years, Michael sounds calm, even upbeat. He credits his wife, Hélène, and their three children and two grandchildren, for support and inspiration. He also joined a support group, where he and his peers can get together to talk about cancer and its effects on their lives.

Michael also belongs to a cancer clinic that offers complementary and alternative therapies to help people cope with the day-to-day challenges of having cancer. Through art and music therapy, tai chi, acupuncture, visualization and meditation, Michael has found ways to help himself get through tough spots. For example, he says, “visualisation techniques were helpful during chemotherapy, and meditation really helped during a three-hour nuclear scan when I couldn’t move.”

If there is a bright side to being treated for cancer, says Michael, it’s the people he’s met. Like the elderly Lebanese woman at the after-hours chemotherapy clinic. They spoke for two hours, and at the end of their conversation, she slipped a wooden bracelet from her arm to his. “It was made from the wood of a church that had burned down. Her children had travelled to Lebanon to get it for her.”

He’s participated in the Canadian Cancer Society’s Cancer Connection program, where those whose lives have been touched by cancer can talk to “someone who’s been there.” After using the program as a client, he decided to volunteer.

“Sometimes it’s a challenge — there are so many sad stories. It’s nice to hear some good ones.” He pauses for a moment. “I still think my story is a good one.”