BOULDER — Deion Sanders’ news conference lasted 43 minutes. But four seconds of silence explained the gravity of his situation.
He sat down in the Touchdown Club in the Dal Ward Center on Monday with photographers recording every move and reporters recording every word. Dr. Janet Kukreja flanked him on his right. CU assistant athletic trainer Lauren Askevold flanked him on his left.
This was Sanders’ opportunity to reveal how he fought bladder cancer, to create a public conversation. And credit to him for being honest and open.
He made people laugh. He made them cry. But before he took questions, he revealed how his life hung in the balance without saying a word.
For four seconds, Sanders paused when reflecting on his journey over the past three months.
“God is so good. You have no idea,” said Sanders, before stopping with his hands clasped together as he stared forward, diamond-encrusted cross hanging from his neck. “There are some people out there right now dealing with the same issue, affected by the C-word. Normally, when you hear it, there is a life sentence attached to it. But not this time. Not this time.”
Sanders, 57, had a story to share. Advice to deliver. In his most memorable address since coming to Boulder, Sanders showed vulnerability and provided inspiration, pleading with everyone to “get checked out. It could have been a whole different type of gathering for me if I hadn’t.”
Sanders knows more about bladder cancer than he ever wanted to know, and stuff he wished he never knew from his Google searches. He could have died. At one point, he got his affairs in order, having a living will created.
The details of his ordeal were chilling.
Two weeks after a routine vascular checkup in mid-April, Sanders was referred to a urologist. He was told he had cancer. And the bladder tumor was showing “very aggressive” signs.
“You guys gave me options that scared me to death,” Sanders said to the medical professionals.
Rather than go through years of treatment, a more disruptive option given his profession, Sanders chose to have his bladder removed and a neo-bladder created and put in its place. The expectation is that he will make a full recovery, Kukreja said, with no limitations.
“I don’t want anybody to take it for granted. Because it’s real. Everyone in this room, I guarantee, has been affected by the ‘C’ word. Some parents, some friends, some loved ones, somebody,” Sanders said.
Sanders turned to Kukreja and asked, “Doc, we are going to beat it, ain’t we?”
Kukreja responded, “It’s beaten.”
Kukreja, director of urological oncology at University of Colorado Cancer Center, explained that the tumor had moved through the bladder wall, but not into the muscle layer. The importance of this cannot be overstated when looking at survival statistics.
“When it gets into the muscle, that’s when it can spread,” Kukreja told The Post. “That’s when it is a lethal disease.”
For more than three months, Sanders was not on campus. Social media snippets revealed that he was dealing with an undisclosed medical condition. Given the previous issues with his feet — he had two toes amputated a few years ago — and compartment syndrome in his left leg, the fear was that clotting issues had returned.
The reality was way more frightening.
“I didn’t stare death in my face. I stared life in the face,” Sanders said. “The surgery I chose was based not just on family, but football.”
It also created an avenue to help people. Coach Prime beat cancer, and he followed an urgent medical plan so he could return to the sideline this season, where he is most visible.
He might look different, as he did Monday. He said he’s only regained 12 of the 25 pounds lost. And there might be a porta potty on the sidelines because “I can’t pee like I used to pee.” But he didn’t walk 1.3 miles a day with bags of urine to accelerate his recovery to not coach.
“I always knew I was going to coach again,” Sanders said. “It was never in my spirit or in my heart that God wouldn’t allow me to coach again. I never thought like that.”

How Sanders handled the diagnosis aligns with his belief that testimony involves a test. He recovered, while keeping a secret. Sanders has long been criticized for making everything about him. Yet when given the worst news of his life, he did not tell his sons Shedeur and Shilo. He wanted them to focus on making their respective NFL teams — Shedeur with the Browns and Shilo with the Bucs.
It is easy to demand high-profile coaches and athletes use their platform as messengers. That’s convenient when you are not the one who is unable to leave your bed for a week at a time.
Sanders chose to make an uncomfortable topic, especially for men, comfortable.
He joked about the value of Depends after dealing with more accidents than his grandson. He thanked those closest to him, from family to doctors and Hall of Famer Randy Moss, also a cancer survivor.
Sanders’ positivity radiated in the room, his attitude and resilience an inspiration.
His story is now a modern parable of hope.
“It’s not a death sentence. The lesson learned is get checked out,” Sanders said. “I’ve got too much life to be thinking about death. I’ve got work to do. We have to win a darn championship.”
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