WHERE ARE YOU?

“We don’t have any experience with your situation.”  Imagine hearing those words from a top oncologist at Princess Margaret Hospital, Toronto, one of the top five cancer research hospitals in the world.

It began fifteen years ago when my GP Doctor, referred me to a specialist who diagnosed me with cancer. Being a problem solver, I immediately asked what then must we do? Advice was given. (This was later proven to be the wrong advice hence the statement from PMH). Two operations provided short term results. Three corrective surgeries to repair the damage from those initial cancer surgeries. Then a more radical cancer surgery was undertaken. This was followed by thirty-three radiation applications. It all seemed to work. But the results were short lived.

I was President/CEO of CMA Ontario at the time. If it wasn’t for the support of my management team (Andrew, Beth, Janet, Sharon) and the Chair of the Board (Michael), I would not have made it through as P/CEO. Staff were not aware of my circumstance. Nor was it necessary to inform them. I diligently ensured the execution of our strategic and operational plans were not to be interrupted with deflecting details. Staff took a high potential but not yet realized provincial accounting regulatory organization and made into a highly respected and immensely successful organization. CMA Ontario became the first choice among university students when choosing an accounting/finance career. The outcome was the trigger of the merger between the three accounting bodies in Canada.

People Can Be Cruel at Times. So, Be Kind, Always.

Good governance requires the P/CEO inform the Board of such a situation. And we did. Most were supportive. Some surprisingly were not. I remember attending a performance review meeting with the Human Resources Compensation Committee. The HRCC was responsible for setting the performance goals of the P/CEO. The P/CEO is the representative of staff to the Board of Directors. For several years management and staff continually exceeded what was expected of them. For this particular year, the goals were set very high thinking in prior years the goals were too easy. But management and staff achieved the unexpected and presented a year of unbelievable results. When it came time to review the P/CEO’s performance, the Chair of HRCC looking at me with a swordlike stare, said “We resent having to pay you your full bonus!”. He and the HRCC tried to change the performance criteria set twelve months prior to prevent a full bonus payout. They couldn’t. It wasn’t about the money. It was the attitude. Rather than celebrating the extraordinary achievement of management and staff, they resented it. I learned how important it is to be grateful for people who sincerely and honestly care.

I was expected to attend CMA National Leadership meetings and I did, always. (CMA Canada was not a regulator. That responsibility was with the provincial bodies.) But one time I did not. I was told my absence was criticized by certain members of CMA Canada leadership. The Chair, of CMA Ontario gave a simple response: “Merv was just released from hospital yesterday, after having surgery for cancer.” The atmosphere turned quiet. No questions of concern. No empathy. Just a walk away and continued focus on business. I learned how important it is to show you care.

So, it meant my cancer issues were born mostly by me (and of course my family) with the support of my Management Team. For several months (repeated 2 x over the next 24 months) I attended work with a catheter inserted in my stomach and a bag tied to my leg. Only my Executive Assistant Anne-Marie knew this. She was without a doubt my biggest support. I would not have been able to cope without her commitment and wisdom. I was always extremely worried the bag would break, I’d be in a mess, and I would be overwhelmed in embarrassment when being among staff and colleagues. I travelled to national meetings, attended committee meetings, presented and discussed agendas with my Management Team and my Board all the time hooked up to a catheter and my leg strapped with a urinary bag. Ugh! But I learned it is ok to ask for help. Pride creates prisons.

Life Goes On

Post merger I joined Achēv as their P/CEO. My Management Team, Karen, Moya, Oscar, Rob and Teresa, were the best. The staff while not knowing my situation, enveloped me with what I now call “organizational love” giving me the strength to face each day with hope. I could not have joined a better organization while on this cancer roller coaster. And it was all of them who rose to the occasion and created, developed and innovated an organization that was recognized as the best among its peers in governance, financial strength and most importantly meeting the needs of its clientele, newcomers to Canada. I was asked by Carol; “Merv, when do plan to leave Achev?” I replied, “Carol, if you hear of my resignation, it is only because my health issues have overwhelmed me.” And I did resign because of health issues, otherwise I’d still be there.

The cancer journey was crazy. After surgery, success. Then cancer returned. More radiation and success. Cancer returned. A third series of radiation treatments combined with hormone therapy and experimental drugs from clinical trials. The side effects from taking all these drugs and radiation took its toll. Extreme fatigue, nausea, weight gain, loss of strength, and hair. I heard one person say, “but he doesn’t look sick”. Little did they know the emotional and mental battle was as wearing as the physical battle. Success was again short lived. Then my oncologist said: “There is nothing more we can do for you. We will be referring you to a Medical Oncologist, for palliative care.” We had moved on from finding a cure to just keeping me alive.

Through these years I also had multiple surgeries for kidney stones, gallbladder removal, hernia repair and open-heart surgery to fix a birth defect discovered at the same time I was diagnosed with cancer. Finding hope was indeed challenging.

I taught in the Masters of Financial Accountability graduate program at York University thanks to Dr. Richard LeBlanc. I never shared my situation with him. But I was thankful he kept me extra busy. This helped me to cope. Whether it was teaching a class after a radiation treatment, in between surgeries or after negative health news, the energy I received from a class of exceptional students was a hidden energy covered in hope for the future, allowing me to press on. And the fun and laughter were a great medicine, too.

Fifteen years later, through it all, I relied on my Christian faith, as I was taught by my mother who passed five years ago during COVID. But when lying down on a sterile bed, December 19th, 2025 (it was my birthday) as the whirling sounds of the CAT Scan dominated the atmosphere, after having a bone scan and eight vials of blood extracted the week before, all alone in my thoughts I asked the question “Where are you God?”

I was scheduled to meet with the medical oncologist, January 5th, 2026. The wait was excruciating. People prayed, encouraged, supported, and told me not to worry. What else could they do? What they did though was so critically important. But the outcome was not looking good based on my history; the discovery of four new cancer tumors which were growing at a faster rate than the oncologists overseeing my case were expecting. I had begun to ensure all my state affairs were in order. It was that bleak.

I’m in the general cancer patient waiting room. I was asked to go to an assigned meeting room to review my results with the medical oncologist. A nurse presented herself and asked me how I was feeling. I said fine. The nurse said the Doc would be in shortly to review my results. The next 10-15 minutes were painful, emotionally.

The Doc arrived. Without any soft words, she opened my file and read the results of the cancer tests to me:

CAT Scan: Clear.

BONE Scan: Clear.

BLOODWORK: ALL clear.

Silence. What just happened? The outcome is often referred to by doctors as a “Complete Biochemical and Radiographic Response.” The technical definition for these results in layman’s language: “Based on these tests, there is no medical evidence of cancer in your body”!

Where was God? God was there all the time. Watching, strengthening, and placing people in my circle who sincerely cared and supported me without knowing most of the time what they were doing. The reality now as I reflect on the journey of fifteen years, my time for healing had not come. During those fifteen years I was given the opportunity to serve people who were hurting, who needed to know someone cared. It’s called SERVANT LEADERSHIP. How much more I could relate to them when I too was experiencing their trials, their worries, their sadness, their hopes. I learned empathy. I learned what it means to care. I learned to be kind to people because we just do not know what others may be experiencing. I learned being a leader is not just about financial and operational ratios but more importantly the positive difference you can make in a person’s life.

So, for you and still for me:

Never stop hoping.

Never stop believing.

Never stop fighting for what you are hoping for and believe in.

To surrender is to perish.

This story is not about me. This story is about my journey, my experiences, my learnings, and more importantly, my understanding of God’s faithfulness, God’s providence, God’s sovereignty, and God’s timing.

Thank you for reading.

Merv