Jason’s Fight: Faith, Family, and the Will to Beat Cancer

My name is Jason Goudy. I have been married to Sherrie for 33 years, a joyful father of four, and proud to be the “Papa” of six grandchildren.

On December 2nd, 2025, I had a routine MRI to see what was causing the pain in my lower back, but it became far more than just a routine MRI. We learned that I have Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL), a rare and aggressive form of cancer among adults. We were, of course, shocked, emotional, and devastated. In my mind, I was thinking, “You hear about these things, but this happens to other people it could never happen to us.”

But back in reality, we, just like anyone else, wanted to know the prognosis, but it was slow in coming. It took nearly a month to get the actual diagnosis, but we learned that depending on my age, overall health, and several other factors, the five-year survival rate is only 50%. This means that only 50% of the adults with ALL are still alive after five years. This statistic alone could break our spirits, but there’s something cancer didn’t take into account—me. I am a fighter, an eternal optimist, a man of faith, a believer in the power of prayer, a disciple of our Savior Jesus Christ, and have knowledge and faith in our Heavenly Father's Eternal Plan of Happiness. So, no matter the outcome, it will be God's will and it will work for our good.

I would love for you to read more about Jason and his story below, as you do, I invite you to consider donating to a fund that has been set up to help Jason and his family pay for medical costs, outstanding medical bills, cost of transportation for the many 80-mile round trip journeys for treatment, utility bills, and other family expenses. As you will read, he has been out of work for over seven months and he will be in and out of the hospital for the next eight months and is already struggling to get by. Any amount is appreciated and you can choose a monthly amount if that works better for you, and even if you cannot contribute, we ask that you consider praying for his family. I suggest you read and follow his blog as he shares his journey with us on Goudy Blog Finally, if you could share this with everyone you can that would be amazing.- Jami Jentzsch

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But the cancer diagnosis is not all we’ve experienced over the past seven months. On May 2nd, I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital due to me being in a very dark place and making a plan to commit suicide. I have BiPolar disorder and have struggled with it for decades I had been hospitalized before, but this time was much more serious. After a very trying experience in the hospital, I went on FMLA as we tried to figure out what medication combination might help bring me back into the light. We tried several different medications, but they made me very physically ill. To find a solution, I had to go through multiple med cycles, but after about six weeks, the new medications put me on the pathway to return to work.

On June 17th, I walked back into my office expecting to get things back to normal. Instead, I was told, "Go see HR." I entered the room to find my boss and the head of HR looking unusually formal. I sat down, and then they blindsided me. I was handed a "reduction in force" document and told my position had been eliminated—I was being terminated. How could this be, I thought I was a valuable part of the team, having increased several contracts by 45% and one by 70% In addition, I was on FMLA, which should have guaranteed my job bright. I was blown away and confused, but they found a loophole. If they called it a reduction in force and had a legitimate business reason for making the change, they could eliminate my position. So, as much as I wanted to do something about it, a Labor Law attorney told me I had no case. Unless, after a short time, they reinstate the position, which they technically have not done. So, while I was out, they figured out how to do my job without me. So, not only was I recovering from a mental health crisis, but I was now without a job. But we marshaled on, why dwell on the bad things that happen. We just needed to find a way to move forward and listen to the spirit for guidance.

I spent several months applying for jobs, changing careers, and getting the needed training to make the career change, and then on November 20th, just before Thanksgiving, I started having pain in my lower right abdomen. Having been an EMT a lifetime ago, I remembered what to look for as signs of appendicitis, and after examining myself, I woke Sherrie up at 5:00 am and headed to the ER. After they checked me over, they verified that it was appendicitis, and they wheeled me into emergency surgery. So, Thanksgiving was spent in bed. So, between the psychiatric hospital visit and the cost of the appendix surgery, we found ourselves in a medical expense hole.

During this time, I also began to experience some pain in my lower back that could be extreme at times, so I went to see my primary care physician, Rachel Hobbs, who is amazing. She ordered an MR, but Aetna, our insurance company, refused to pay for it until I had six months of physical therapy with no improvement. I had already been through physical therapy, but they would not accept it because it was too old. In the meantime, the pain was getting worse to the extreme. Finally, on December 2nd, we paid for the MRI on credit. (Side note: I would not be here to fight if I had waited the six months they required). We then awaited the results, figuring it was a bulged disk or some kind of alignment issue never thinking for a second that it could be cancer.

I was supposed to have the results within 24 hours, but instead, we were a little curious when we got a call from Dr. Hobbs' nurse informing us she wanted to meet with us in person the next day to review the results. At this point on the call, we began to be concerned, but our anxiety shot through the roof when the nurse said, “And bring your wife with you.” Dr. Hobbs sat us down, read the MRI results, and said, “You have cancer,” which has caused bone lesions (damaged areas of the bone usually caused by cancer) all over your pelvis and spine. Sherrie and I were shocked, and Sherrie began to cry I was so shocked I said nothing.

The doctor could see the shock and had to reiterate to me several times that it was, in fact, cancer. However, bone lesions show up on an MRI, but it can’t determine what type of cancer caused them. After a referral to the Huntsman Cancer Institute, the waiting for the final diagnosis began. It took just under a month of blood tests, a bone lesion biopsy, and finally, a bone marrow biopsy before we knew for sure that it was Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, or (ALL), which is a blood cancer that has spread through my entire body. All the waiting tests and somewhat painful procedures made the holidays hard to celebrate as we spent a lot of time not knowing and then getting the final devastating diagnosis in the middle of it all.

Now, with a diagnosis, it was time to prepare for treatment, which included a two-and-a-half-week stay in the hospital for the initial chemo, several lumbar punctures to treat any cancer that may be in the spinal fluid, MRIs, CT Scans, and four to the seven-day hospital stays every 21 days over eight months, possible a bone marrow transplant and then two to three years of maintenance treatments. All of this is in hopes of getting into and staying in remission, where no cancer cells are found in the bone marrow. If there is a relapse, meaning the cancer has returned, then new treatment will be initiated, and if remission is not reached again, then a very tough decision will have to be made to continue trying or not.

However gloomy as this may sound, we have high hopes for the success of my treatment. I have always had a strong constitution and have always been a fighter, and being positive is in my DNA. Sherrie and I have an amazing support network of family, friends, and doctors, and we are confident that I can fight this thing and win. After all, I have my beautiful wife, who is my closest friend, eternal companion, and who I can’t spend enough time with, four children who need their dad's advice, and six grandchildren that I need to watch grow up, coach their teams, and spoil them with icecream that I need to stay around for.