Mark Cesarano talks to people on the phone, and they tell him about their worries and the challenges they face. “It humbles me because I hear what other people go through,” he said. “It makes me say, what I go through is nothing.”
“Nothing,” by any standard, is an understatement. Cesarano, 58, lives in a long-term care facility because he has a brain tumor.
He starts his day watching Mass on YouTube. A diehard sports fan, he’s been enjoying Korean baseball on YouTube while he waits for the start of the American baseball season. He also spends part of his day talking to people on the phone — people from all over the United States, but also as far away as Europe, Australia and Africa. Their initial connection, often learned through Facebook and other platforms, is the diagnosis they share.
Gliobastoma (GBM) is an aggressive type of cancer that usually kills quickly. When he was diagnosed, Cesarano was told he would be dead in nine-14 months.
That was four years ago, after he developed a pain on his left side while exercising at a gym. When the pain persisted, his medical journey began: testing; the diagnosis of an inoperable tumor; plans to begin chemotherapy; then a second opinion; and surgery, with the warning that he probably would not make a full recovery. He didn’t.
The doctors removed 90% of the tumor, the most they could hope for, and Cesarano pushed through seven months of in-patient therapy. He moved back home with his parents for a time but, in their 80s, they were unable to care for him.
“Surgery did not make me whole. I will always have cancer,” said Cesarano, who uses a wheelchair. But, he adds, “I’ve been really lucky.”
Nearly every day, he talks to others who have GBM or their family members. They usually call for financial advice because Cesarano earned his living as an insurance counselor for 25 years.
“They ask about insurance all the time,” he said. They also talk about Social Security, medical costs, loss of income and other financial concerns. “It’s a brand new field for them. They are in shock,” he said.
“I got a call from a woman in Dallas yesterday,” he recalled. “I said to her, ‘I have to tell you I’m a huge Eagles fan, but I’m not going to hang up on you,’ and that broke the ice.”
Cesarano talks about the large families who are losing their primary source of income, and he said he is especially proud when he was able to help one family save $300 a month. “It was a tremendous amount for them.”
But the conversations are not always limited to finances, and he is happy to listen to people who need to vent. If a caller brings up religion, Cesarano offers to pray with them.
With the coronavirus lockdown, and the strict restrictions at health care facilities, he observed, “Unfortunately, too many people don’t get any religion at a time when they need it most.”
A 1980 graduate of Paul VI High School in Haddonfield, for years he taught religious education at parishes where he was a member. These days he fights to maintain his faith and not give into despair. He lives by the advice he used to give his students: Be prepared for this to be your last day, the last day to make amends or tell someone you love them.
“I’m not going to give up on religion just because I have this disease,” he said during a phone interview while he awaited results of another round of medical tests.
“Occasionally I do feel bad, but there is no use in being depressed. I just have to fight through it,” he said.













