Ross Delory battles cancer with 'Courage'

Waseca resident Ross Delory can name a considerable list of losses. One of the few he’s pleased with is the removal of an “itchy lump” from the left side of his neck–a very localized case of skin cancer. 

 

Cancer free for the past three months after a seven-month journey that included chemotherapy and more than seven hours of surgery, Delory, 68, is a noticeable figure around town for at least three reasons. 

 

His face features a white, nine-inch beard. 

 

He has a boisterous, outgoing personality. 

 

He wears a wide-brimmed hat with a duck on top.

 

Delory explains that soon after he was diagnosed with cancer, a nurse suggested he should acquire a wide-brimmed hat to protect his skin from exposure to the sun and, since he is single and lives alone, that he might benefit from a support animal.

 

Delory says he loves dogs and would gladly have acquired one if it had been feasible, but did not want to subject one to living in an apartment. So instead, he acquired a dog toy–a fabric mallard duck meant to be thrown and fetched. Over time, he actually ended up with two. The first is about 18 inches long. Delory carried it to chemotherapy sessions and kept it nearby during infusions. After a while he changed to one small enough to fit in his pocket.

 

During one session, a nurse suggested he should keep it out where he could see it rather than tucking it away. He recalls, “I decided she was right, and I fastened it to my hat.”

 

Along with its connection to his love of the outdoors, Delory says he enjoys the duck’s role as a conversation starter.

 

“I’m a people person,” he elaborates. “I love giving people an excuse to come talk to me.”

 

One spontaneous conversation with an 11-year-old girl with down syndrome pertained to the duck’s name. “I told her it was my support animal and it helped me when I had to go through treatments,” he describes. “And she told me I should name it ‘Courage.’”

 

Delory said he couldn’t argue with the girl’s logic, and so “Courage” has been the duck’s name ever since.

 

Regarding the highly localized nature of his cancer, Delory speculates it is because he spent 41 years as a truck driver in and around Albany, New York, where he was born and raised.

 

He owned his own truck, and would haul “anything that’s legal” for “anyone who needed it.” During those many hours of driving, he would nearly always have the driver-side window open “with the sun beating down on my neck.”

 

Delory’s connection to New York became gradually weaker as “I lost four important people in my life to cancer in four years.” After the death of his 91-year-old mother, Delory says he was invited by a cousin to come to Minnesota. “He told me I might as well, since I didn’t really have any close connections left back in New York.”

 

Then, after a four-year string of losses, Delory was diagnosed with skin cancer in the fifth year. “Courage” the duck aside, he says his largest defense, the one he’s used in facing tragedy for most of his life, is humor.

 

“I don’t make light of suffering,” he assures, mentioning how his heart went out to those around him during chemotherapy sessions. “Cancer sucks, and I wish people didn’t have to go through that pain and uncertainty.

 

“But for me, the way I get through it is to make a joke.”

 

He tells the story of completing a survey shortly after his surgery in which he claimed he had not been warned of a side effect, “that the surgery would give me three chins.”

 

The surgeon, with whom Delory had consistently exchanged lighthearted gaffs, called his cell phone after reading the feedback. “He only said one sentence,” remembers Delory. "‘In my defense, you already had two of them.’”

 

Delory mentions he has coupled humor and human connection as his defenses ever since acquiring self-diagnosed post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) at the age of 12, when his alcoholic father held a shotgun to his face and “threatened to blow my head off.”

 

“I had my first beer when I was 14, on the day of my father’s funeral,” he recalls. Both an alcoholic and a four-pack-a-day smoker, he says he traveled a very rough path until someone in his life pointed out “you’re not going to live to see 30 at the rate you’re going.”

 

Delory shrugs and says, “So I quit.” A recovering alcoholic since 1983, he went on to become an informal mentor to others. He describes a late night phone call when a fellow person in recovery pleaded for a ride home. The man explained that, although he was sober, he knew that if he drove himself he would not be able to resist stopping at “any bar he passed.”

 

“All right,” Delory says he responded. “Where are you?” The caller answered, “In the passenger seat of your car.”

 

Along with humor and human connection, Delory enjoys writing. He says his poems and stories center around nature and natural settings. He mentions having had two items published, one in “Cosmo” and one in an outdoor magazine, although both were years ago. He writes by hand in spiral-bound notebooks and has amassed quite a collection over time. With his life now in less upheaval, he says he hopes to review and perhaps reorganize some of his writings.

 

Even as he moves forward, though, he says he plans to retain his “courage.”

 

“I think some form of hat with a duck on it will be part of my life from now on,” he speculates. “I like it, and I like the way it gets conversations started.”