KsSooner
10/4/2007, 06:54 AM
There was a thread about Steve Williams a few months ago, further update from today's Tulsa World
Williams: 'Dr. Death' to Dr. Life
Dan Gable International Wrestling Institute & Museum
Former wrestler and OU lineman “Dr. Death” Steve Williams (left) poses with Nikita Koloff on July 14 in Waterloo, Iowa. Williams has a hole in his throat after having cancer removed.
By JIMMIE TRAMEL
10/4/2007
It was 25 years ago that former Oklahoma offensive lineman "Dr. Death" Steve Williams participated in his last OU-Texas football game.
Still passionate about his alma mater, Williams will cheer for the Sooners when the Red River Rivalry is renewed Saturday, although he won't cheer exactly the same way as everyone else.
Williams does his cheering without benefit of vocal cords. In order to speak, Williams has to place a thumb over the permanent hole in his throat. With prosthetic help, he utters words made of gravel.
Doctors created the hole -- it's called a stoma -- in conjunction with surgery to remove cancerous tissue from Williams' throat.
Initially, Williams tried to get rid of a golf-ball sized tumor in his neck by subjecting himself to grueling (is there another kind?) radiation and chemo treatments. His weight dropped from 295 to 206 pounds and chunks of the tumor were expelled through his nose and mouth when he coughed.
"I thought I beat it," he said.
"But the cancer was so aggressive it went down to the vocal cords and they literally had to cut my head off and take everything out."
Williams exaggerated only slightly when he said surgeons cut his head off. Surgeons carved him from ear to ear. They did it again three months later because his radiation-weakened skin busted open and caused his stoma to spring a leak.
Recalling the leak, Williams said he woke up in a pool of blood. He said he probably should have bled to death while driving 4 -1/2 hours from his home in Shreveport, La., to the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, Texas. Doctors at M.D. Anderson took 2-1/2 feet of muscle out of Williams' thigh and plugged up the hole.
Remind most guys that it has been a quarter century since their last college football season and it might make them feel old.
Williams isn't most guys.
"I'm real young after what I have been through, brother," he said.
Williams, 47, said doctors initially gave him six months to live. But he will be cancer-free for three years if his next check-up, scheduled later this month, goes well.
It's impossible to go from death sentence to all's well without being affected in a significant way. This is how Williams was affected: "To tell you the truth, for many years, I did it my my way, like old blue eyes, Frank Sinatra. But that day (cancer was discovered), I gave my life over to Christ and said I can't do this by myself. I asked Him to be my tag-team partner."
Added Williams, "Now I do it God's way, man, and it sure is a lot easier."
Williams told his story in detail in a biography released earlier this year. The book (available on his Web site, oklastamped.com) is titled "How Dr. Death Became Dr. Life."
Dr. Death (Williams got the nickname as a kid because he wore a hockey mask to protect a broken nose during wrestling matches) was a bigger-than-life dual sport athlete at OU. He gained greater fame as a pro wrestler in the U.S. and Japan. He raised more than his share of heck en route.
Dr. Life still steps into the ring on occasion and he frequently shares his testimony with youths.
"I am out there ministering and that's just too cool," he said.
In hindsight, Williams knows why he didn't die when his stoma began leaking.
"God wasn't done with me yet," he said. "I've got a lot to do for God before I pass away."
For drama's sake, the words "fortunate to be alive" are thrown around way too often by the media when an athlete encounters misfortune. But hall of fame wrestling announcer and Sooner fan Jim Ross said the fact that Williams is alive is a miracle.
"He dodged a bullet," said Williams' former wrestling mentor, "Cowboy" Bill Watts. "Anytime you come by that big C (cancer), you are dodging it."
Williams said he lives every day to the fullest. He doesn't mind the hole in his throat. He doesn't mind his rocky speaking voice, adding that many people in his predicament sound like they are speaking in a glass of water.
Even without vocal cords, Dr. Life is getting across his intended message loud and clear.
"Brother, there is a God," he said. "I don't care what anybody says."
Williams: 'Dr. Death' to Dr. Life
Dan Gable International Wrestling Institute & Museum
Former wrestler and OU lineman “Dr. Death” Steve Williams (left) poses with Nikita Koloff on July 14 in Waterloo, Iowa. Williams has a hole in his throat after having cancer removed.
By JIMMIE TRAMEL
10/4/2007
It was 25 years ago that former Oklahoma offensive lineman "Dr. Death" Steve Williams participated in his last OU-Texas football game.
Still passionate about his alma mater, Williams will cheer for the Sooners when the Red River Rivalry is renewed Saturday, although he won't cheer exactly the same way as everyone else.
Williams does his cheering without benefit of vocal cords. In order to speak, Williams has to place a thumb over the permanent hole in his throat. With prosthetic help, he utters words made of gravel.
Doctors created the hole -- it's called a stoma -- in conjunction with surgery to remove cancerous tissue from Williams' throat.
Initially, Williams tried to get rid of a golf-ball sized tumor in his neck by subjecting himself to grueling (is there another kind?) radiation and chemo treatments. His weight dropped from 295 to 206 pounds and chunks of the tumor were expelled through his nose and mouth when he coughed.
"I thought I beat it," he said.
"But the cancer was so aggressive it went down to the vocal cords and they literally had to cut my head off and take everything out."
Williams exaggerated only slightly when he said surgeons cut his head off. Surgeons carved him from ear to ear. They did it again three months later because his radiation-weakened skin busted open and caused his stoma to spring a leak.
Recalling the leak, Williams said he woke up in a pool of blood. He said he probably should have bled to death while driving 4 -1/2 hours from his home in Shreveport, La., to the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, Texas. Doctors at M.D. Anderson took 2-1/2 feet of muscle out of Williams' thigh and plugged up the hole.
Remind most guys that it has been a quarter century since their last college football season and it might make them feel old.
Williams isn't most guys.
"I'm real young after what I have been through, brother," he said.
Williams, 47, said doctors initially gave him six months to live. But he will be cancer-free for three years if his next check-up, scheduled later this month, goes well.
It's impossible to go from death sentence to all's well without being affected in a significant way. This is how Williams was affected: "To tell you the truth, for many years, I did it my my way, like old blue eyes, Frank Sinatra. But that day (cancer was discovered), I gave my life over to Christ and said I can't do this by myself. I asked Him to be my tag-team partner."
Added Williams, "Now I do it God's way, man, and it sure is a lot easier."
Williams told his story in detail in a biography released earlier this year. The book (available on his Web site, oklastamped.com) is titled "How Dr. Death Became Dr. Life."
Dr. Death (Williams got the nickname as a kid because he wore a hockey mask to protect a broken nose during wrestling matches) was a bigger-than-life dual sport athlete at OU. He gained greater fame as a pro wrestler in the U.S. and Japan. He raised more than his share of heck en route.
Dr. Life still steps into the ring on occasion and he frequently shares his testimony with youths.
"I am out there ministering and that's just too cool," he said.
In hindsight, Williams knows why he didn't die when his stoma began leaking.
"God wasn't done with me yet," he said. "I've got a lot to do for God before I pass away."
For drama's sake, the words "fortunate to be alive" are thrown around way too often by the media when an athlete encounters misfortune. But hall of fame wrestling announcer and Sooner fan Jim Ross said the fact that Williams is alive is a miracle.
"He dodged a bullet," said Williams' former wrestling mentor, "Cowboy" Bill Watts. "Anytime you come by that big C (cancer), you are dodging it."
Williams said he lives every day to the fullest. He doesn't mind the hole in his throat. He doesn't mind his rocky speaking voice, adding that many people in his predicament sound like they are speaking in a glass of water.
Even without vocal cords, Dr. Life is getting across his intended message loud and clear.
"Brother, there is a God," he said. "I don't care what anybody says."