Life After Stomach Cancer—A Story of Hope and Healing
Yoli Day hadn’t fully awakened from anesthesia after her endoscopy when the nurse gripped one of her hands and the gastroenterologist took the other. Her husband was waiting in the hospital parking lot—COVID rules kept him outside—when the words landed: “It’s a bleeding tumor…an ugly one.” In a moment that is etched in her memory, Yoli learned she had stomach cancer.
The weeks leading up to that day felt bewildering. Yoli had been exhausted—too winded to bend over, too drained to dance with her husband, something they loved. Cardiac workups looked fine. She was told she was okay. But her body kept telling a different story, and she kept pushing. “I knew something was wrong,” she says. That persistence led to an endoscopy—and the truth.
What came next was a blur of blood transfusions, a search for trusted voices, and a decision to seek care at MD Anderson in Houston, five traffic-heavy hours from her home in San Antonio. There, her team recommended chemotherapy and radiation first and surgery second, an approach tailored to her age and overall health to give her the best chance at long-term survival. By December 2021, surgeons removed her stomach. She began to navigate a new normal—relearning how to eat slowly, eat less, chew..chew..chew and rebuilding strength one careful day at a time.
Her path to becoming a patient mentor and advocate began when she realized the power of shared experience. At her doctor’s suggestion, she joined an online support group offered by Debbie’s Dream Foundation, an international nonprofit organization dedicated to stomach cancer awareness, patient support and education, and research funding. Early on, a conversation with a newly diagnosed young man facing surgery to remove his stomach made an impression. Others, meaning well, flooded him with worst-case scenarios. Yoli reassured him. “Yes, hard things happen,” she told him. “But there’s hope. I’m here, and I’m healing. You won’t be alone.” It was the moment she realized her story could steady someone else’s footing, leading her to become both a mentor and an advocate. Today, Yoli serves on the national board of Debbie’s Dream Foundation and organized their inaugural Gut Check for Stomach Cancer 5K Walk/Run in San Antonio that took place on November 8, 2025. She also flies to Capitol Hill for Advocacy Day every year—helping protect funding for the deadliest cancers. “When budgets get cut, patients pay the price,” she says. “Funding saves lives.”
Yoli’s world hums with a vibrant life that includes a loving husband, four adult children, and three grandsons, ages 15, 11, and 9, who keep a watchful eye on Gammie. She says her nine-year-old grandson is her little caretaker, reminding her, “Gammie, don’t eat too fast and make sure you chew your food!” Her days are a full slate of school events, church, theater, and park days—punctuated with the joy of a pickleball game, the fellowship of her book club, and nights out dancing with her husband. “Survivorship means I get to be here for my family,” she says. “There was a time I didn’t know if I’d get that chance.” After a long career—AT&T management, then director of supply chain for an AT&T vendor—Yoli retired in 2021. She imagined more travel (still on the list) but now channels her energy into helping patients and building community.
Her advocacy is anchored in two messages. First, be your own advocate. “Common symptoms like fatigue, reflux, and eating-related discomfort are easy to miss,” she says. “If they persist, push for more testing. You know your body.” Second—expand the tools for early detection. Endoscopy is essential, but access isn’t universal. For people far from major centers, or where scopes aren’t available, biomarker blood tests like Cizzle Bio’s DEX-G2 could help detect disease earlier and guide who needs invasive follow up. And for survivors living with the fear of recurrence, she sees promise in post-treatment surveillance. “If a blood test can flag something sooner, that’s a chance to act sooner,” she says.
Today, Yoli has no evidence of disease and is approaching five years in survivorship—a milestone she doesn’t take for granted. She recalls an earlier conversation with an oncologist who said, “Cancer doesn’t always leave; sometimes it hides.” She insists this isn’t a reason for dread for but for vigilance, research, and smarter follow up. It’s why she mentors newly diagnosed patients through decisions that shouldn’t be rushed and why she urges second and third opinions even when every instinct says: just get it out.
Yoli has a powerful definition of hope. “It’s not a feeling, it’s a discipline,” she says. And Yoli lives out that hope in a life filled with what matters—her grandsons’ laughter echoing through her kitchen, the satisfaction of a perfect pickleball game with family and friends, and the quiet courage of answering a patient’s late-night message: What should I ask my doctor tomorrow? Yoli answers, every time.
This Stomach Cancer Awareness Month, let’s honor Yoli’s survivorship with action—by listening, by asking about early detection tools, by funding research, and by standing with every patient who is still waiting for the words they deserve to hear: “We caught it early.”
