Volunteering and giving back more than one receives—these values were instilled in me from early childhood. I grew up in a household with two working parents, and my two grandmothers were my primary caregivers. Each of these remarkable women exuded goodness. Charity wasn’t something they did; it was part of who they were.
Later, marrying Jim—who, as many of you who’ve met him know, has the most generous heart and is a giver through and through—deepened these values and shaped our way of life together.
Fast forward to today, as Jim and I navigate this road called metastatic disease. Early on, I was fortunate to find a community of extraordinary people. I listened, I learned, and I worked hard to find my niche—a way to live out the principle that has always guided me: give back.
Now, three years post-diagnosis, some call me a mentor, others an advocate. In truth, I’m simply a friend. A person who cares. Someone trying every day to share what I’ve learned, what I practice, and—above all—the message of hope with my sisters.
Just yesterday, I was on the phone with a friend walking the same path. She faces the same challenges and wrestles with many of the struggles I’ve encountered. My message to her (and to many of you who’ve heard me say it countless times) was simple: Control what you can.
Today, as I begin a Phase 1 clinical trial—side effects yet unknown to me and 890 others around the world who are helping to forge new ground—I’m thinking of all my sisters, brothers, and friends who are cheering me on.
Thank you for the texts, the calls, and the messages. In short, for your warm, continuing empathy.
You are there for me, and I feel your support in my heart.