Nothing has been conventional about marriage for David Perkins and Dianne Jennings, from the unlikely location of their impromptu wedding two years ago to the most unwelcome third party in their union: cancer. However, the power couple has issued the disease its walking papers as they journey together with a stronger bond, redefined goals and even a new name.
They say opposites attract, which was true for David Perkins and Dianne Jennings.
David, an architect, is quiet, stoic and reserved. Muscular, with a youthful face belying the calendar’s claim to age, he adores the pastoral escape he created on 60 rural acres in Newton County. It welcomes him after his long daily commutes from Atlanta. He is entirely nonplussed when someone mentions his list of impressive clients, including Coca-Cola, Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport and Centennial Olympic Park. Dianne Jennings—now called Kat Perkins—shares her husband’s youthful countenance. She is well known around Covington for her vibrant personality and active involvement in the Newton Chamber of Commerce and other local organizations. An “introverted extrovert,” she occasionally needs time alone to regroup but thrives on the human interactions gained in her roles as a financial advisor, mortgage broker and volunteer.
The Perkins’ similarities and differences were reflected in two birds that began to frequent their home. A bright red cardinal and his soft brown mate showed up so often that Kat sat out fresh fruit for them to nibble. She named them Ricky and Sunshine. “They were like our home’s guardian angels,” Kat said. “When I didn’t see them, I’d be sad.” Puzzled by the frequency of their visits, she asked friends what it meant if birds were drawn to your home. Some said it was a sign of angels; others said it meant someone was about to die. The latter explanation felt ominous, as David had been diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2021. He underwent surgery and months of chemotherapy, only to be struck with colon cancer in 2022. On August 22, 2023, he finally rang the bell, signifying the transition from treatment to healing. The very next day, Kat became his bride.
The couple originally planned to have a reverend friend, Bernard Miller, marry them in a quiet lunchtime ceremony at home. However, Miller was delayed at his job as a chaplain at the Jackson Diagnostic Prison Center.
“I believe the Spirit gives us the ability to overcome.”
David Perkins
“He invited us to his friend’s house across from the prison, but when I got there, I wasn’t feeling it,” Kat said. “It just didn’t feel right.” Miller suggested performing the ceremony at a lovely park beside a lake on the prison grounds. The ceremony went beautifully, until David went to put the ring on Kat’s finger and realized he had left their wedding rings at home. David and Kat laughed over the memory. “It was OK,” she said. “We just put them on each other’s fingers when we got home.”
The couple enjoyed a calm season as cancer became a distant memory, vanishing along with their resident cardinals. However, one day the following year, Ricky and Sunshine reappeared.
“They actually hit the windows. We still have marks on these windows where the birds would hit the glass,” Kat said. “One evening, they were pecking on a window out front like they were trying to get inside. I said, ‘I don’t speak sign language. Tell me what’s going on, Lord. Am I sick? Am I dying?’” She felt an urgency in her spirit to schedule a mammogram. Kat made an appointment at a 3D mammogram center, feeling reassured that the in-depth imaging would pinpoint any issues. “I didn’t think I could be sick, but I needed to know,” she said. “Ten days later, I got a letter saying that my mammogram was abnormal.”
The mammogram revealed cancer, and Kat struggled to accept the news. Finding an oncologist and surgeon who felt like a good fit was also challenging. “I was in this headspace where I couldn’t believe it was happening,” she said. Kat’s initial oncology team only exacerbated her anxiety. “I asked to use the restroom, and when I walked back, I passed this big open room with people in lounge chairs with scarves on their heads getting infusions, and I freaked out,” she said. “I didn’t even go to the restroom. All I could think was, ‘This is not where I’m supposed to be.’ The doctor asked me why I was so anxious. I said, ‘Why do you think? You just told me I have the C-word. I’m not supposed to be here.’” With that, she left.
Kat’s thoughts turned to her husband’s oncologist, Dr. Shanker Polsani. She called and asked if he could care for her. “He said, ‘I can. Don’t worry.’ I was shaken that whole time, but the moment I pulled into the Piedmont Newton parking lot, I exhaled and felt at home,” she said. “I knew I could do this.”
An unlikely encounter connected Kat with the perfect surgeon. While driving through Oxford one day, Kat, a huge fan of yard sales, saw a sign for an estate sale and turned into the neighborhood. “I saw a woman running and pulled over to make room for her to get up the hill,” she said. “I rolled down my window and told her she had kicked that hill’s butt. She told me her name was Alicia and she was training for a marathon. She mentioned she was a breast cancer oncology nurse.” Kat was surprised to learn Alicia worked for the same surgeon who had removed a friend’s breast cancer. Alicia gave her a back-office number and told her to call, saying who had referred her.
“I never did find that estate sale,” Kat said with a laugh. Within a few days, she found herself sitting in Dr. Pettiford’s office with her husband and children. “Her biopsy confirmed the diagnosis, but she said we caught it early and I was going to be alright.” Kat had a lumpectomy in October 2023, followed in November by a port implant and chemotherapy. She was so focused on being brave and strong for her family that it took a drastic side effect for reality to hit. “It happened after my fifth chemo treatment. I thought I’d gotten away without losing my hair, but I just hadn’t noticed yet that my locs were falling on the floor,” Kat said. “I sat down in the quiet living room and heard the oddest sound, like the soft sound of paper tearing. I reached up, saw my hair in my hand, and I freaked out. That’s when I finally had a breakdown. That moment just broke me.”
The Perkins’ five children and three grandchildren were instrumental in helping them through the difficult months that followed. Their support became ever more crucial when David shockingly faced his third cancer diagnosis. This time, bloodwork had revealed that cells were growing in his prostate bed—the area left after his earlier prostatectomy. Husband and wife found themselves fighting separate battles against the same enemy. Their treatments at the Knox Surgical Center often overlapped, each in their own pod with their own nurses.
“David never missed one day at work through his treatments,” Kat said. “He went through it like it was nothing. He’d leave the Knox Center and go to work, while I’d have to go home and lie down.” She was so impressed with her husband’s strength that she started calling him The Incredible Hulk. She even gave him a large Hulk statue for his desk. David felt a little emotional when he opened his wife’s gift but also believed he had been preparing for this battle his entire life. “I’ve always eaten healthy and been careful not to do anything detrimental to my body,” he said. Mental health and faith provided additional strength. “Mentally, you can have power over aches and pains. I was blessed not to lose my hair or have other bad side effects from treatment. Discomfort is a minor thing when you have a much higher goal. I believe the Spirit gives us the ability to overcome.”
Kat revealed she tried to mimic her husband’s example but reluctantly had to concede he was simply stronger. She has found her own way to use her battle for good. An ordained minister since 2006, she has decided to retire from the financial industry and pursue writing and public speaking full-time.
“My story needs to be told,” she said. “It’s a story about Jesus Christ and how He will cover and keep you if you’re faithful. It’s a story of hope, healing and inspiration.” Walking into a new chapter of life also inspired her name change. “My full name is Kathleen Dianne,” she said. “I’ve been called Dianne since I was a child, but I’ve always liked Kat as a nickname for Kathleen.” She also decided it was time to take on her husband’s last name.
David and Kat have received good prognoses from Dr. Polsani but will need more frequent health screenings to ensure they remain in remission. The family’s health harbinger cardinals, Ricky and Sunshine, have not been seen again.
Click here to read more stories by Kari Apted.
Related Stories
Trust Fall
Inner Strength
