Kristie Camp

Wife to Marc // Mother to Jordan and Joel // Educator and researcher // PhD in Language and Literacy // Former high school teacher // Writer and academic author // Passionate about the outdoors and hiking // Draws inspiration from nature, language, and learning // Baseball family

Kristie Camp did not go searching for Cancer Survivors Park. The park arrived quietly in her life at the right moment.

A former student, Matthew, reached out and encouraged her to visit. He connected her with Tom Bates, and soon Kristie was walking the grounds, listening more than speaking. The trees, the open sky, the intentional stillness. She felt it immediately. She later told Kay Roper, “This is the center of what my studies are about.

The park felt providential. A place shaped by nature and purpose, open to survivors, caregivers, and those who need room to breathe. For Kristie, whose life has always woven together imagination, language, and the outdoors, the space felt deeply familiar.

The Moment Everything Shifted

Kristie was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer at age 51, during her first colonoscopy.

The date lingers. July 12, 2023. Her husband Marc’s 58th birthday.

Only weeks earlier, Marc had undergone surgery for prostate cancer. His prostate was removed in June. He did not need chemotherapy or radiation. During that same stretch of appointments and waiting rooms, doctors also discovered he had a benign brain tumor.

When Kristie woke from the procedure, the doctor told her they had found cancer, marked the tumor, and taken biopsies. What she expected to be routine had quietly crossed into something else. The ground shifted beneath her.

Scans followed. The cancer had already reached her liver.

By August 2023, she began chemotherapy. Between August and December, she completed seven infusions. Treatment unfolded in phases of waiting and endurance, hope and uncertainty.

Her surgeon spoke plainly. This was stage IV. Palliative care was part of the early conversation. The words were heavy, meant to prepare her for the hardest possibilities, even as outcomes remained uncertain.

Treatment and Persistence

January 2024 became a month of crossings.

On January 4, Kristie underwent her first liver ablation. Later that month, from January 22 to 26, she received five radiation treatments and ileostomy markings in preparation for surgery. On January 29, she had a colon resection and a temporary ileostomy placed.

Recovery meant relearning how to trust her body again—slowly, sometimes painfully, always deliberately.

She lived with the ileostomy while continuing chemotherapy from February through June 2024, completing seven additional treatments during that stretch. On August 29, 2024, the ileostomy was reversed.

For the first time in months, her body was allowed to rest. She had to learn how to go to the bathroom again. Healing was not dramatic. It was methodical.

In December 2024, scans revealed new spots on her liver.

In January 2025, she underwent a second liver ablation.

But the pattern resumed.

By June 2025, the cancer had returned in her liver. At that point, doctors told her they would not pursue additional ablations. Chemotherapy resumed in June. By October, she was told she would likely remain on chemotherapy indefinitely.

That was the moment she chose to seek another opinion.

In October 2025, Kristie traveled to MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. After evaluation, she underwent a liver resection on December 23, 2025, performed by a world-renowned surgical team. After two unsuccessful ablations, surgery was the only remaining option.

At the end of January 2026, her blood work came back clean.

It was not a declaration. It was not an ending. But it was the first quiet exhale in a long time.

She now returns to Houston every three months for scans. Her colon has remained clear from the beginning. She has not been declared in remission. Life exists between scans, held together by faith and careful hope.

A Life Slowed and Reimagined

Before cancer, movement defined Kristie’s days. Long hours at baseball fields. Hiking trails. Classrooms. A steady climb toward a doctorate.

Cancer altered the rhythm.

She completed her PhD in Language and Literacy during treatment. Writing and research became companions on days when her body needed rest. The work gave shape to time that might otherwise have felt empty, which also meant it might feel foreboding.

Kristie is a wife to Marc, an elementary school physical educator who has stayed constant through every uncertain moment. She is the mother of Jordan, a teacher at Woodmont High School, and Joel, now in graduate school. Their family learned together how to live with change.

Naming the Experience

Finding the right words has taken time. Kristie speaks openly now, but the process was not immediate.

She has learned that people often want to help, even when they do not know what to say. Colon cancer adds another layer of silence. Discomfort keeps conversations short.

Avoidance fills the gaps.

Kristie hopes to soften that silence.

She wants people to notice their bodies. To honor screenings. To speak plainly about things that feel awkward and provoke the silence surrounding colon cancer.

Attention, she believes, can be life-saving.

Lessons Carried Forward

Kristie has allowed herself to grieve the life she once lived. She no longer runs races. Her hikes look different now. Even stories about physical endurance can stir unexpected emotion.

Instead of turning away, she adapts. She looks for trails with accessible bathrooms. She chooses spaces that still welcome her body as it is today. She returns to language, to writing and teaching, as steady ground.

Her faith and her community have carried her. Friends drove her to appointments. The family stayed close. Support arrived in ordinary, faithful ways.

For example, Marc’s students would sometimes make her bracelets and send her videos of themselves sending her get-well wishes.

A Quiet Resolve

At some point, Kristie stopped waiting.

She chose not to postpone joy. She and Marc traveled to Banff, Canada. She said yes to experiences without asking for permission out of fear. She refused to step aside from her own life.

“We think we have time,” she says. “Take advantage of every opportunity now. Don’t wait.”

Living with uncertainty has sharpened her awareness of the present moment.

Looking Ahead

Kristie’s greatest source of strength is her husband. Through every uncomfortable and frightening moment, he has remained steady. His presence has shown their sons what devotion looks like and has lived it daily.

What comes next feels open.

Kristie plans to keep teaching, writing, and researching. She is working on a book for English teachers focused on blending indoor and outdoor learning. She looks forward to watching her sons coach baseball and football. Marc plans to retire in May, and together they hope to visit baseball stadiums and national parks.

She is even considering race walking.

The journey has been a traumatic plot twist that has also carried unexpected clarity, depth, and purpose.

Story by Michael McCullough

Photo by Sliced Tomato Productions