Family Matters

When you're waging war against cancer, a support system is a must. Doctors, friends, and colleagues are key. And family is essential.

When I had my first surgery, the outlook on my future was bleak. We hadn't yet learned about the "pick it out/pour it in" procedure, and all my parents and Will knew after Dr. Ramos consulted with them is that I still had cancer in my body. A lot of cancer in my body.

But I had had a discussion with my mom the night before surgery. "What if it's Stage IV?" my mom asked me when we had a moment alone at Good Samaritan.

"I'll beat it," I responded, without hesitation.

Equipped with my promise to beat cancer, regardless of the odds or the sacrifice or the pain, my mom rallied my family. She delivered the news to my grandparents, aunts, and uncles - telling them that the diagnosis was terrible but that, in the end and no matter what, I would win. She told them to harness their love for me into positivity, not fear. And she asked them to show that positivity when they entered the recovery room.

I was awake in the recovery room and remember the scene like it was yesterday. Every single person in my family was smiling, cheering for me, kissing my cheek and telling me how great I did and how proud of me they were.

I soaked in that support, love, and the knowledge that nobody believes in me more than my family. These things became my most essential fuel for this battle. And each time I spend time with my family -- like tonight -- I get more of that fuel. 

So whatever invisible, shivering, dying cancer may be left in my body, you should really just give up now. My tank is full and I won't be stopping this all-out assault on you anytime soon.