Thriver, not survivor: Los Angeles paralegal celebrates five years post-deadly cancer diagnosis

As Victor Gonzalez sits at the dinner table in a room full of his loved ones, he can’t help but peer over at everyone’s warm plates of food. From fresh tortillas heated in the comál to the juicy marinated steak cooked to perfection and a bright variety of salsas, he can’t help but hold bittersweet memories of these flavors. 

His gaze then shifts up from the warm plates of soulful food to the reality of his prepared Thermos bottle with a premade green juice and the little remainder of his stomach since his life-altering procedure.

In 2019, Gonzalez was diagnosed with esophageal carcinoma, also known as esophageal cancer. This is a rare cancer type, with only 1% of people being diagnosed in the U.S. and survival rates ranging from fiveto 47%.

Through numerous evaluations and runs of chemotherapy, he was required to undergo an esophagectomy, which is used to treat this cancer through the removal of some or all of the esophagus and stomach. 

He was left with no esophagus and five centimeters of stomach. What remained of his stomach was then attached to his throat.

For months, Keck Medicine of USC and other medical centers became his second home as he endured rounds of chemotherapy and countless evaluations. The toll was immense, both physically and emotionally.

“When hearing the word ‘cancer,’ you feel like you’re going to lose that person,” said Rosa Ramirez, one of Gonzalez’s divorce clients and friend.

Gonzalez, now 54, has been an active legal document assistant and paralegal in Los Angeles since 1998. Having immigrated from Guadalajara, he’s been a driving force for the Latino community and numerous other clients, guiding clients through financial struggles, immigration hurdles and the aftermath of the 2008 economic recession.

But with his deadly diagnosis, his services came to an abrupt halt. 

Adding to the challenges, La Catedral de Los Angeles Wedding Chapel, which was his main office since the 1990s, officially closed its doors due to the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. 

Yet today, Victor celebrates five years since officially being cured of his cancer and remains adamant that his cancer developed through his workaholic tendencies and excessive eating habits, factors he sees as a wake-up call.

“Sometimes I wouldn’t sleep for 24 hours,” Gonzalez said. “I wasn’t disciplined, even though I was a grown man.” 

Victor’s journey up to today didn’t come without his moments of denial. He often dismissed his early symptoms—coughing up blood, even in his sleep—and delayed seeking help until stomach acids began leaking into his esophagus. 

When told by doctors that he needed to go through surgery to save his life, he laughed in their faces. But deep down, this laughter was masked by immense fear and the reality of his possible fate sinking in.

“I realized the doctors weren’t just lying to me,” he said. “This wasn’t a game to me anymore.”

“By the time I reached stage three cancer, I’d lost 5.2 hemoglobin in my body.” Gonzalez said. “The tumor was choking me.” His bleeding tumor led to him begging at the doors of a holistic clinic in Tijuana for help after being rejected elsewhere.

Ramirez can recollect the impact she felt seeing her friend’s condition worsen each time they saw each other.

“He lost a bunch of weight because the cancer consumed him,” Ramirez said. “He looked like a walking skeleton.”

She remembers him growing weaker and always sounding tired.

 “I didn’t know if I would make it …next month or how much time I had.” Gonzalez said.

“I believe I needed this cancer as a human being.” He continued. “I remember the state of mind I was in back then versus mine now and laugh.”

Since his recovery, Victor’s life has undergone a dramatic transformation. Gone are the days of late-night indulgences of Bristol Farms chocolate chip cookies and lobster from CostCo. 

His diet now consists of vitamin-rich meals, Gerson Therapy juices, vegetable soups and coffee enemas. He often suffers from Dumping syndrome, a condition that causes food to move too quickly from his stomach to his small bowel, leading to severe abdominal pain and nausea. 

Despite these challenges, Victor remains committed to his work, though at a slower pace.

“Business is definitely slower than it used to be,” Gonzalez said. “I don’t have as many clients and I’ve had to balance and prioritize my health over anything.”

Victor's journey has also turned him into a passionate advocate for cancer research and healthy living. He stays consistent with endless research of his past illness and different treatments from doctors such as Dr. Patrick Vickers and Dr. Nicholas Gonzalez.

“I’m not going to be going out onto the streets, but if I meet someone at the Metrolink or at the courthouse, I’ll share my story, and I’m ready to share it.” Gonzalez said. “My biggest concern today is making sure everyone around me is healthy and well.”

Armed with a notebook everywhere he goes, he jots down information, recipes and medical advice to share with others.

Gonzalez thinks back to his old self and ways with a bittersweet lens. He knows he was ignorant and lived his life the only way he knew how to live with his circumstances, but he ultimately would never look back.

“I know this sounds like a line in the movies, but every day is a celebration for me,” Gonzalez said. “I live in gratitude that every day is real and I’m not in the hospital or on my deathbed.”

His hope is simple: to help others by sharing his experiences and encouraging them to take control of their health. With his new perspective on life and sense of purpose, he calls himself a "cancer thriver," not just a survivor.

“I honestly just give people information and what worked for me,” he continued. “My only hope is that I can help someone whenever I can and that they can do their own research to better themselves. But if they don’t, that’s their choice.”

With one esophagus less and a wealth of new stories to tell, Gonzalez continues to thrive, making the most of his second chance at life.