Curing cancer’s a team effort
AS YOU WERE SAYING ...
At some point in our lives, we’ve all tried our hand at baseball. Little League, gym class or just a neighbor’s backyard — we’ve all swung a bat in the name of fun. But for a professional, whose job it is to step to the plate every day, who is playing for higher stakes, whose intention is to dedicate every ounce of his energy, his God-given ability and his hard-earned skill in service to his team, baseball is serious business. It demands work and unrelenting focus.
As we approach the All-Star break, I am reminded of another All-Star team of my own.
In 1985, I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Confronted by news like that, as anyone would be, I was scared and stunned. I was angry. I didn’t know what lay ahead, but I knew I was in for the fight of my life.
I was given a 30 percent chance to survive. For a hitter, three out of 10 are pretty good odds. But a three out of 10 chance to live? That translates to a prematurely shortened career. Much as it is with a baseball team, to improve my chances required not just one or two talented players, but a full roster of skilled health professionals who each were as averse to losing the game as I was.
Fortunately for me, my All- Star team had already been assembled: the staff at Dana-Farber. Instead of pitchers and hitters, I had expert oncologists and radiologists. I had nurses. I had researchers and technicians. I had the world’s best care. Today, I am living proof of their commitment, their expertise and their compassion. I owe my life to them.
My friends and family rallied around me. They were my stalwarts, my advocates, my partisans. You’ll pardon the dark humor when I tell you I came to understand the expression “die-hard fan” in a way I never had before. They lifted my spirits and gave me courage. I couldn’t be more thankful to them. Their love got me through the toughest days.
In the years since then, research has transformed what it means to be diagnosed with cancer. Survival rates have risen. Treatments are more effective with less collateral damage. Researchers at Dana-Farber are making advancements every day: a way to harness the body’s own immune system to attack cancer cells; a vaccine that inhibits tumor growth; an ability to target diseased tissue more precisely; a “liquid biopsy” that replaces the more invasive kind. The list goes on.
Cancer is a curse. Nearly 1.7 million Americans were diagnosed with cancer in 2016; 600,000 died. While it may no longer be the automatic death sentence it was once, our objective, the eradication of this terrible disease, is still some distance off. Scientists are making great advancements, but they cannot do it alone. One doesn’t need a lab coat to help us gain ground. Whether you make a donation, participate in an event, or volunteer, your contribution moves us closer to the goal.
In 1985, I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Confronted by news like that, I was scared and stunned. I was angry. I knew I was in the fight of my life.