My Fight Against Cancer
Every day, thousands of Americans are diagnosed with cancer. For some of them, it means a long and painful battle that will end sadly. But for more and more people every year, cancer does not mean death. Through the benefits of scientific research funded by the PMC and events like it, more people are surviving their cancer experience. It is this trend away from cancer being a death sentence that motivates me to stay involved with this amazing experience for the fourteenth year.
My 2019 ride is again dedicated to Schuyler O'Brien, a young man from the Cape who continues to amaze me with his persevereance. In the lead-up to my first ride, in 2003, I was privileged to meet Schuyler, who at the time was a middle-schooler whose life had been turned upside down by a diagnosis of Ewing's Sarcoma, an aggressive bone cancer that metastasizes in unpredictable ways and can hide from treatment, sometimes for years. Schuyler was in the midst of treatment, which meant he was wan and without much hair on his head, and despite being only 12 years old, he looked like he had seen a life's worth of pain and uncertainty. That didn't stop him from smiling, a piercing grin that melted me. I was barely finished with treatment myself, and the empathy I felt for Schuyler was almost too much to bear. I rode that year with his photo taped to my handlebars, and I wished with all my being that he'd get better.
He did get better. He returned to school, became a teenager, got his driver's license, grew a patch of scruff on his chin. He graduated from high school but had to postpone the start of a degree program at SUNY-Albany because of a relapse. He beat it back again, finished a degree in biology, and set his sights on a masters program where he could study not just cancer but his cancer, Ewing's Sarcoma. He flourished, gaining insight, wisdom, knowledge; he grew up; he became an adult. When I saw him briefly last summer (such was his fervor that he continued research and study into the summertime) he had become my hero. The money I plan to raise this year will not impact Schuyler's fight directly, but it will help those who also look to him for inspiration.
My own story is somewhat more typical. In June of 2002 (17 years ago!), I was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, an aggressive form of bone cancer that eats away at healthy bone and also, if unchecked, can spread to the lungs and brain. I began a rigorous chemotherapy treatment at Massachusetts General Hospital and, in October of 2002, I had surgery to remove the diseased bone along with my right foot. I had the option of keeping my foot and replacing the cancerous section of my leg with cadaver bone, but I chose amputation to avoid a lifetime limp and a very fragile leg that would have prevented the many physical activities that I have enjoyed all my life. I cycle (obviously), I ski (on both snow and water), I golf, I teach school, and as each year goes by, my brush with cancer becomes less impactful and less a part of who I am, with the exception of the amazing experience of the PMC.
In a haze of anesthesia, I committed to my first ride only a few days after my surgery, but I stuck by my pledge and, nine months later and only weeks after my last chemo treatment, I rode about 140 miles of the longest, toughest PMC route, a 192-mile trek from Sturbridge to P-Town. This year will be my 13th ride. In registering for the ride, I have committed to raise $4600, and this is where I would like to ask you directly for help in meeting this goal. I know that every year brings more events like this one, along with more requests from friends, family, co-workers, random strangers, etc. All I ask is that you consider the impact cancer has had on our lives and the role that the Dana-Farber, with immense financial help from the PMC, has done to minimize that impact. Consider: in the mid-1970s, the cancer I had killed almost 90% of those diagnosed; by 2002, the survival rate was 90%. Success like that is evident across the cancer spectrum and it’s the result of research, funded in large part by the PanMass Challenge and events like it.
When I first started to ride, it was for selfish reasons, to prove to myself and others that getting sick, even losing a limb to cancer, didn't need to be a death sentence. In recent years I have found my motivation from kids, both sick and well, who have confronted the disease without the skills to comprehend its awful strength but who have faced up to its challenges with smiles, laughter, and the determination to fight against it. As always, I am also riding for my mom, who survived breast cancer in an era when it was a death sentence for most women. Before she passed away this summer, she continued to demonstrate to me just how to be strong in the face of adversity. I also ride for Logan Dunne, another Cape Cod boy who sadly lost his fight with neuroblastoma, and for all childhood victims of cancer. It seems a great injustice that so many young people must face something so deadly and mysterious, but we have the means with which to push back against this injustice.
Here are your options should you choose to help: mail a check, made out to PMC/Jimmy Fund, to me at Brian Lutes, P.O. Box 1880, Brewster MA, 02631; or just use the button on this page marked “Donate To My Ride.” This allows you to donate securely using a credit or debit card. Please give what you can, and take pride in the support you are giving to an incredibly successful means of fighting back against cancer. I am living proof that it works!
We have made great strides against the disease, and each year, with each dollar, we really are closer by the mile. P.S. The deadline for fundraising is not until September, so please do not worry about being too late to help out. Thanks again.
