Randy McNeely: We are never more vulnerable than in the moments when life delivers news we did not expect, and are not prepared to hear. That moment came for my wife and me in early August 2023.

A few weeks earlier, Kimberly was helping our daughter move a small chest freezer when she felt a sharp twinge in her right thigh. It seemed like a pulled muscle, so she treated it that way, but it did not improve. Reluctantly, she did something she usually avoids, she went to urgent care. The nurse practitioner agreed it was likely a strain and began sending her home, then paused.

“Just to be safe, I think we should schedule a magnetic resonance imaging (MRI).”

Kimberly agreed. She went in for the scan the following Monday, and we did not think much of it afterwards. Until the phone rang. Around 2 p.m. that afternoon, a nurse called. I handed Kimberly the phone and stayed close by. What I heard nearly stopped my heart: “There’s a mass in your thigh that may be cancerous. We’ve scheduled you to see a specialist tomorrow for a biopsy.”

For the first time in 28 years of marriage, I heard my steady, kind wife respond with fear and frustration. “What are you talking about? It’s just a pulled muscle. I don’t want them making it worse.”

But the nurse did not react, she listened. Not just to the words, but to the fear behind them. “I understand,” she said calmly. “I would feel the same way. But wouldn’t it be better to know for sure? Just meet with the specialist and hear what he has to say.”

The power of compassionate health care

That compassion changed everything. Kimberly agreed. The next day, we met with Dr. Miller at the University of Iowa Health Care (UI Health) cancer center. His warmth put us at ease, but his words were direct: Based on the MRI, he believed it was likely cancer. We would need the biopsy to know for sure. He reassured us that if it was cancer, it would be very treatable and explained how. He listened patiently, answered every question, and spoke with a calm confidence that gave us peace.

The biopsy came back positive, a rare form of sarcoma, representing just one to two percent of cancers diagnosed around the world each year. The news felt surreal. Cancer was something that happened to other people, people we prayed for and supported. Not to us. And yet, it was real. But we made it through.

The following weeks brought radiation treatments in preparation for surgery, many appointments and plenty of opportunity for stress. Yes, there was some of that. But what made the difference was simple and powerful: love. We felt it from God, in prayer and the peace that came with it. We felt it from family and friends. And we felt it from Dr. Miller and his team. At every visit to UI Health, we felt seen, heard, and cared for. From the front door to the exam room, kindness met us at every step. When surgery day came, there was apprehension, but, more importantly, there was trust. We knew Kimberly was in good hands.

The surgery went well. Thankfully, the cancer had not spread. Dr. Miller was confident Kimberly would recover and return to nearly everything she had done before, despite losing a portion of her thigh muscle. And she did.

Navigating the return of cancer

Fast forward two years. Kimberly worked relentlessly to rebuild her strength. By July 2025, scan after scan had returned clear. She felt great and was doing all she had done before, with only minor challenges. Then came another twinge. This time, just below her previous scar. She felt a small lump and asked me to check. It felt like something was there.

Her next appointment was only days away. We went in with concern. After an exam, another MRI was ordered. It revealed a new mass, smaller, but unmistakable. The biopsy confirmed it. The same cancer had returned.

Two weeks later, Kimberly underwent a second surgery. It was successful, but more muscle had to be removed. To compensate, muscles not designed to work together were sewn together, requiring her body to relearn how to move. This recovery has been harder. Slower. More demanding. But Kimberly has met it with the same determination. And once again, love has made the difference.

The team at UI Health, along with devoted family and friends, have surrounded her with care, seeing her, listening to her, understanding her needs, and guiding her forward. For the kindness we received, we made sure Dr. Miller, his team, and the UI Health staff felt our deep gratitude. They helped us feel seen and valued, and we did our best to make sure they felt the same. Seeing. Hearing. Caring. Understanding. These are more than actions. They are expressions of love. And they have made, and continue to make, all the difference.

A two-way street of kindness

Kim Downey: Randy McNeely, known as Captain Kindman, demonstrates even small acts of kindness can transform lives and communities. During our initial conversation, Randy shared this story of his wife, Kimberly, and how the compassionate medical care given to her made all the difference.

We discussed that compassionate, loving care must go both ways to be healing for the patient and the doctor. Randy describes how his wife was treated, with love, listening and understanding, feeling seen, heard, and cared for. Doctors also need to feel seen, valued, appreciated, and loved. There is room for love in health care. I have had cancer three times, and I love my doctors!

When you visit your doctor, chances are you are not feeling your best, unless it is a routine visit. No matter the reason you are there, pause and remember that your doctor is human too, and they are doing their best during the very challenging time that is health care today. Many physicians have told me the profound impact that the simplest act of gratitude by patients or colleagues has had on them. A little kindness shared, by doctors and patients, goes a long way. What act of kindness will you share today?

Randy McNeely is a motivational speaker. Kim Downey is a physician advocate and physical therapist.