HERMISTON — Jeff Sepulveda knows a little something about curveballs.

Five years ago, the Hermiston man got a devastating diagnosis of scleroderma, an autoimmune disease known to stiffen and tighten skin and connective tissue as if the person is slowly turning to stone. In Sepulveda’s case, the disease attacked his lungs. Doctors estimated he would live about five years.

The news jolted Sepulveda, then 37, and his wife Rebecca. How was it possible the healthy looking Jeff, a long-distance runner and cyclist, faced such a grim diagnosis?

Jeff forged ahead as his condition stabilized, working at Les Schwab, parenting his two daughters and keeping life as normal as possible. A bout of COVID-19 in early 2022 set him back. His condition deteriorated until Jeff’s doctor at Oregon Health & Science University referred him to start evaluations for a double lung transplant.

On Nov. 6, before undergoing any testing, his condition took a dive. Jeff spent a week at Kadlec Regional Medical Center in Richland, Washington, and returned home wearing an oxygen tank.

In early December, the couple traveled to the University of Washington Medical Center in Seattle for a week of testing. The battery of examinations included blood tests, imaging, fluoroscopy, heart catheterization, psychological evaluation and other tests to determine whether Sepulveda would be a good candidate for a double lung transplant. They returned to Hermiston to await the decision.

On Christmas Day, the couple soaked in every moment with family.

“Watching Jeff decline,” Rebecca said, “we felt sure it was our last Christmas together.”

Rushing to the unknown

If Sepulveda’s life was a novel, this would be a perfect time for a major plot twist. Jeff and Rebecca still can’t fully wrap their minds around the next chapters.

On Jan. 9, Rebecca’s cellphone buzzed. By speakerphone, the couple spoke with a pretransplant nurse who told them the transplant committee had unanimously approved placing Jeff’s name on the waiting list for a double lung transplant. The thrilling news was tempered by the reality that it can take months or years for a pair of lungs to become available. They worried Jeff’s frail lungs wouldn’t last.

The very next afternoon, lightning struck. Rebecca’s phone buzzed again. Lungs were available. The couple needed to get to Seattle by 8 that evening. Jeff and Rebecca got their daughters out of school to say goodbye, arranged for their care, packed suitcases and drove four hours to the hospital. They wouldn’t see their children for almost a month. As they drove, their minds whirled.

“I was pretty scared and nervous and excited as well,” Jeff recalled. “It just didn’t seem real. They couldn’t guarantee the transplant was actually going to happen. They called two people. That way if the lungs are the wrong size for one person, they may be the right size for the other person. We didn’t know until the following morning on the 11th whether they were going to (fit) me or not.”

In the morning, still not knowing if Jeff was the recipient, Rebecca hugged her gowned husband before he was wheeled away.

“I told him it was going to be OK and I’d see him on the other side,” Rebecca said. “I didn’t see him again for about 11 hours.”

So on their daughter Matea’s 13th birthday, Jeff received his new set of lungs. Veteran transplant surgeon Michael Mulligan removed Jeff’s scarred organs and replaced them with a healthy pair.

That night, Rebecca, along with Jeff’s younger brother Tony Sepulveda, gazed at the heavily sedated and intubated Jeff. Six tubes ran from his stomach. An incision ran across his chest. IV lines snaked from multiple bags of fluid.

Two days later, Jeff was able to walk. On Jan. 17, he was moved from ICU to the acute care floor.

One disease masks another

On Jan. 24, Jeff and Rebecca’s world turned upside down — again. Three of Jeff’s doctors walked into the hospital room wearing somber expressions. The pathology report on Jeff’s old lungs had revealed three cancerous masses in the left one.

“I think my mouth dropped and we just looked at each other,” Rebecca said. “They didn’t say a whole lot. I think they could see it on our faces. Jeff’s lungs were so scarred from the scleroderma that … they couldn’t see the large tumor that was growing. Long story short, he wouldn’t have gotten the lung transplant had they known that he had cancer.”

“I was pretty shocked,” Jeff said. “I’ve had so many scans done over the last five years and no one had seen any of it.”

Recent scans showed a small spot on Jeff’s brain that doctors will continue to monitor. Jeff rejects the idea of chemotherapy.

“As of right now, they don’t see anything other than the spot on the backside of my brain. I could do chemo if I wanted to, but they told me there would only be a 5-10% decrease in the cancer coming back,” he said. “To me 5 or 10% is not enough. I’m on immunosuppressants already, so going on chemo, I’d be more immunosuppressant.”

Now back home, he takes about 40 pills each day and monitors blood pressure, temperature, weight, pulse and lung function twice daily.

Keeping the focus on what matters

All of this is expensive. Medical bills total about $1 million so far. Jeff hasn’t worked since October. Rebecca took a leave from her job at Labcorp in January and will start back next week.

Those wishing to help can donate to a special bank account (“Donations for Jeff Sepulveda” at Bank of Eastern Oregon branches) or a Go Fund Me account (www.gofundme.com/jeffs-scleroderma-battle).

The couple marvels at the support they continue to receive.

“All the good thoughts and the prayers have been amazing,” Rebecca said. “All the people who have reached out to us. My mom took care of our kids and lived in our house while we were gone. People dropped off food and brought flowers.”

Rebecca watches Jeff with wonder as he makes gains each day.

“He’s doing really good,” she said. “I know this is just the beginning of this new chapter in his life, but he’s my hero and my best friend and I can’t wait to see how far he’ll go.”

Jeff knows there are many X factors such as cancer, possible rejection and his scleroderma. For motivation, he focuses on those he loves.

“Family,” he said. “That’s the most important thing there is.”