I’ll never forget one afternoon when I got a call from my mom complaining about a pain she had in her neck. Mom was typically good with words, but this pain was a weird and different pain, and she had trouble explaining it. Nonetheless, worrying about it wouldn’t make the pain go away and she had a tennis match that night to focus on. A few months went by and it was finally time to see a doctor about what was going on. For a healthy woman in her mid 40’s, who kept in shape through tennis and aerobics, a doctor’s visit doesn’t cause much worry, but little did we know the tests run that day would reveal something that would change our family forever.

The phone conversation went a little something like this…

“Matthew,” mom said to me, “the doctors did some tests and it looks like I have cancer.” Those words just echoed in my mind for a bit and a million questions went through my head. Is this fatal? Can she beat it? How did this happen? And the million dollar question that immediately popped into my mind was WHY is this happening to MY mom? But the remarkable thing about this cancer patient is that she never questioned why this was happening to her. Instead she smiled and broke the awkward silence saying:

“Don’t worry. We are going to go see a specialist and they are going to get things figured out. I will be fine.”

Her HOPEs were still high and her journey seeing various specialists in the Philadelphia area began. The thing about specialists treating cancer is that they can only be as good as the resources and support they have. My HOPE is that the resources at their disposal consistently improve until we find a cure. When a rare case presents itself, there is little empirical data to base an intelligent decision upon doctors have to go with their gut instinct. The first major decision was to remove mom’s thyroid. It was May of 2006 and after hearing that she wouldn’t have to have the thyroid removed until after my sister’s wedding, made pictures like the one shown here possible. It was one last moment for mom to physically shine. She looked amazing that day and it was one of the greatest moment’s in my life to usher her to her seat in the front pew of the church that day. Soon thereafter the thyroid was removed and treatment began.

There are four types of thyroid cancer: papillary, follicular, medullary, and anaplastic. The first two types are easily treatable as the cancer cells absorb radioactive iodine and the only thing in the body that will absorb the iodine is the thyroid. The iodine treatment is ineffective for the other two types and, unfortunately, mom’s diagnosis was medulary thyroid cancer. Although it wasn’t fatal, things still weren’t looking very bright. Mom still had a smile on her face and never complained. Normal protocol for treating medullary thyroid cancer was followed and right before Christmas of 2006 mom sent out an e-mail informing us of what the doctor’s found…

“This week I have found out that I will no longer be taking part with the protocol treatments….this is sad but there is new complications……there is a lump in my breast that has been diagnosed as cancer. At this point, they have not determined if it is just breast cancer or the same medullary thyroid cancer that is elsewhere in my body.” It was rough on mom, but she was still smiling. It wasn’t the cancer she was concerned with. Her concerns were elsewhere…

“I appreciate everyone who has volunteered to do so much for me…….right now praying is the best thing…..especially that the doctors determine the way to treat me. I know that I am in the Lord’s hands, there is not better place!!!!!!!! I would ask you to especially remember my family as we go thru this time. Wayne, Matthew, Anita, my parents and siblings, my in-laws, my very close friends, etc…….it is very hard on them.”

In times of adversity, when a person is faced with an obstacle or hardship in life it can really test their character. The above statement defines what my mom was all about – putting others’ thoughts and concerns before her own. At this point she is in pain and going through treatment and all she can worry about is her loved ones. Through collaboration with doctors from Fox Chase Cancer Center in Philadelphia and John’s Hopkins Medical Center in Baltimore, Maryland, the first mode of attack was to perform chemo treatments until an alternative method or treatment could be devised.

After two months of chemo treatments I received the most depressing phone call from mom. I received the call on Sunday afternoon shortly after mom and dad returned home from church. After the normal “hey how you doing conversation” she became silent and I could tell something was not right. “What’s wrong, mom?” I asked. I could tell she was battling to hold back the tears, but she couldn’t. After gathering herself together she finally said what was disappointing her. She had to inform her Sunday school class that she was no longer physically strong enough to teach them.

“My biggest disappointment right now is that I have to take a leave of absence from my Sunday school class; I teach the 2-4 year old class. They are so precious and I look forward to their smiling faces and adorable stories every week. Yeah, it is just for a short time and I need to try and stay away from germs for now, but I will miss the class.”

That Sunday afternoon was one of the toughest days for me to take. For nearly a year mom battled, went through chemo treatments, dealt with emotionally damaging news from doctors, and gave every ounce of her energy to fight the cancer, yet she was always positive, never complained and smiled throughout everything. Ironically, the first time I heard her cry and get down on herself was the day she told her church Sunday school class she couldn’t teach them anymore. For some reason that day I had a really bad feeling deep down inside my gut about things and I knew then that mom wasn’t going to make it.

After that short outburst mom was back to her cheerful self. She was smiling again and thankful she was able to be seen by such great doctors. She had a tremendous appreciation and faith in their ability. It was her HOPE that they could come up with an appropriate diagnosis. Naively she thought they should have all the answers to everything. She was still smiling.

“I have asked the docs loads of questions and to my dismay, but I also can understand this, they have no answers. Since I am such a “unique” case and they have never seen anyone like me, they have not had any experience with someone like me, therefore they do not know. We are all going thru this together!!”

Doctors do not have all the answers. Research still needs to be done. Dollars still need to be raised. I still have HOPE for a cure.

The chemo was still wearing on mom. She was becoming weaker and weaker and had to cut back on work. She was very fortunate to have a job that she loved at the family business where she was able to work with the people she loved and cutting back her hours was something she did not want to do, but she had no other choice. She still continued to stay cheerful and was always smiling.

“Also, I love my job and wish I could be able to work more hours but grateful that I can work in the afternoon. Yeah, I know, can you believe that anyone would pray to be able to work more!!!!!! But that is a little thing that makes you feel your worth and that you are doing something and when you love what you do….how nice is that! I am thankful that my bosses are so wonderful and did not fire me!!!”

Chemo just eats away at you and zaps all your strength, but mom was determined to beat this. For the Thanksgiving of 2007 I was able to go back home and we had the family over for dinner at mom and dad’s house. Mom wanted to cook and was very reluctant to get any help from the rest of us. She wanted to fix dinner and was bound and determined to do it herself. Everyone there knew something was wrong, though. It was one of the most awkward holiday gatherings I have ever had as the typical yelling and arguing was replaced by the clanking of silverware against mom’s china. After the meal mom retired back to her room and closed the door. She began to cry and my grandmother and I laid there in her bed and tried to comfort her. “I just can’t do it anymore,” mom said. The most helpless feeling in the world is to see your mom cry like that and to not be able to do anything about it. You look to the doctors, but unfortunately they have no answers. You start to question yourself and to question your faith and wish you had the words to say to make her and the rest of your family feel better, but you just don’t have the words to say. It’s easy to lose HOPE and very hard to remain positive. I am committed to raising money for cancer research because I don’t ever want a son to have to watch their mother go through something like this. I don’t want anyone to go through the pain that mom had to go through. But as tough as things seemed to be, they would only get worse.

December 4th I woke up with double vision in my left eye; had an MRI which determined that there are small tumor clusters in two places on my brain; the very back of my head and the brain stem (which is where the vision is affected). So was in the hospital for a couple of days but had to leave there to go to Ohio to see our son, Matthew, graduate with his PhD at The Ohio State University. Well, here is my miracle……I made it out and back!!!! Yes, I had a scare going out…..had trouble breathing! I was in the ER, they were concerned about blood clots; all tests were okay. December 9th went to the ceremony and we came back the next day.

December 9th of 2007 was my graduation. I had defended my dissertation back in August, but didn’t walk till the December graduation ceremony. Mom was definitely more excited than I was and I think she talked about the plans of coming out here to Ohio State with the rest of the family months prior to that day. Things took a turn for the worse and MRI results revealed mom had tumors on her brain. It’s extremely difficult to have HOPE when you learn the tumors have spread to various parts of mom’s body and have now decided to attack her brain. “Don’t worry Matthew,” mom said. “They’re just little tumors and even though the doctors aren’t too thrilled about it I’m coming out to see you!” I could tell she said that with a smile. She wasn’t missing my graduation for the world.

So mom and nine other members of the family rented a van, which my uncle dubbed the “Little Mary Sunshine Van,” and headed out on the seven hour voyage from southeastern PA to Columbus. Mom had trouble breathing during various points of the drive, but they made it out Friday evening and settled into the hotel and I cooked dinner for them and a few of my friends. Mom stayed up as long as she could, but you could tell after that long drive she was extremely tired. Dad took her back to the hotel, but about an hour and a half later he came back to the house asking me to come with him and take her to the emergency room because she was having an extremely difficult time breathing.

Mom was no stranger to hospitals at this point and took this visit in stride. I stayed there with her at The Ohio State University Medical Center emergency room till about 5:30 in the morning. That night was so much more special to me than any of the graduation activities. I got to sit there and talk with mom and she really poured her heart out to me. You have no idea how difficult it is to sit there by your mom’s hospital bedside and discuss with her the message she wanted me to give at her funeral. Mom still had HOPE, but she wanted me to know how important it was to her that I give a speech at her funeral. At this point in time mom was not abandoning all HOPE, but she was convinced that the HOPE of others was more important than her own. She was determined to undergo any experimental type treatment if it would help others and contribute to a future cure for someone else. “You know, it’s research,” she said with a smile. “And that’s what you do. So it’s cool and it will help out someone else.” Even after all of this, you couldn’t take that smile off of her face. She also told me that she hoped the doctors would get things straightened out because she would feel bad if she had to sneak out of the hospital to see me graduate. She made it to graduation and despite her weak state she was standing and waving in her seat several times to be sure I saw her up in the stands. The weekend ended and the Little Mary Sunshine Van got everyone back to PA safe and sound. I was soon heading back to Christmas break and more news came from mom’s doctor visit.

“Had an appointment with Fox Chase on the 11th due to everything going on…….well, had to have an emergency tracheotomy!!!! Yeah, I really could not breathe well at all! So like I said my miracle was that I made it out to Ohio and back! I feel so much better. Now I am asking for specific prayer……adjustments to this trach. It has been going very well and pray that I am able to deal with it and it will heal properly, etc…I would appreciate it so much, thanks!”

Having the trach was tough for mom because it was difficult for her to talk, and if anyone knows mom, she LOVED to talk! The trach had no effect on her smile and it did not take away any HOPE she had. The doctors at Fox Chase had no choice but to immediately get rid of those tumors on mom’s brain. The next mode of attack was radiation treatment.

I also have been having radiation treatments on my brain for about 30 seconds on each side. That is a different experience also…like you are being welded, yeah, this smokey welding smell. I have one more treatment on Wednesday and that will have been 14 times. They will do another MRI in about one month to see if any change. I am wearing a patch over my left eye so that I can see, so thankful that I have the one eye! There are so many things to be thankful for even through all this adversity, it is amazing!!!!!!! I am so grateful for everything and cannot believe the peace I have, which I should not be surprised the Lord can do anything!

It seems like today as a society we take things for granted. We want and want and then want some more. I am guilty of this just as much as anyone else. It was very humbling to read an e-mail from your mother stating how thankful she was that she was fortunate enough to have one eye to see out of. At this point in time her hair began to fall out due to the potent radiation treatment and I had to shave mom’s head. No hair, one eye, a trach in your neck, yet as the picture shows she is still smiling. Christmas came and went and was very different with mom in the condition she was in. I got a very heart felt Christmas card written out to me by mom. I will always cherish that one as it was the last Christmas gift I will ever get from mom.

“I sat down with the doctors at Fox Chase yesterday. We are going to try a protocol that Fox Chase and the National Cancer Institute is sponsoring for advanced cancer that nothing else seems to be helping. It is an experimental and research drug by Eli Lilly and no humans have been given this drug yet. There is no name for it, just some letters and numbers. If it does not help me I am hoping that I can help someone for the future. We are going to beat this together anyway, either with this drug or some other!”

Mom’s plan to have research based treatment began to come into fruition. She was willing to be a test patient for a new drug and deep down inside I think it gave her peace knowing that the results of this study were going to be used to help others. Treatment started in mid January and the anticipation of a novel treatment gave her even more HOPE.

Shortly after this news I was able to surprise mom with a visit for her birthday. We surprised her pretty good and she was delighted to see me home. This is where things started to get tougher for me. Every visit home I could see appreciable changes in mom’s appearance. You want the treatments to work. You want the doctors to have the right diagnosis. You do not want to see your mom start to fade away. It is the most helpless and painful feeling in the entire world. It has been said that people are motivated to either gain pleasure or avoid pain. The reason I am raising money for cancer is that I do not want anyone to experience the pain and suffering mom had to go through. I also think of the family members of those suffering. I do not want anyone to go through what my family went through. We need to have HOPE to find a cure.

Mom’s last e-mail update: March 15th 2008

Continue to specifically pray that I can keep food down. I have not been eating that much of course due to this. I do get very tired easily but this is due to the medications. Exciting news, Matthew came home for his spring break this week, so he is helping me this week.

The Lord continues to give me peace and comfort throughout this trial and I also could not feel this way without all your help. Thanks again for everything……….I will try and do better with my progress.

Love in Christ,

Mary

Simply put, the treatments were not working. Four different trials/protocols and every collaborative effort from Fox Chase and Johns Hopkins was not enough. Mom was now completely bed ridden and hospice nurses set up a standard hospital bed in our living room. It was the beginning of the end and each weekend I came home to visit I could see dramatic changes in mom’s physical appearance. When I left her side each weekend to come back out to work I was unable to hold back the tears as I told her I loved her. She would look at me and say, “What’s wrong? I’m not dying.” Even as weak as she was, she still was able to muster up enough strength to grasp a hold of a small bit of HOPE.

It was Memorial Day weekend of 2008 when mom passed away. She went head to head with cancer for two years and finally breathed her last breath. I sat there on my living room couch and noticed her breathing had diminished. I remained still for a few minutes and tried to gather myself as I had to go outside and tell my dad that his wife of 28 years, whom he loved dearly, had passed away before she was able to experience her 48th birthday. That is an experience I wish upon no one. We need to keep the HOPE alive, the HOPE that never went away from my mother, which, throughout this whole process, she was able to instill in me.

It’s the HOPE that Jim Valvano had when he battled through this dreaded disease. Jimmy V was an amazing basketball coach and an even better person. I see a lot of my mother’s qualities and mannerisms in him when I look though old video footage. Valvano would put note cards in his suit jacket pocket, writing out his goals and aspirations. When he was 17 years old he wrote: WIN A NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP. Fast forward to the 1983 NCAA National Championship Game, where Valvano’s N. C. State was to square off against the heavily favored Cougars from Houston, featuring the explosive offensive attack of now NBA hall of famers Clyde Drexler and Hakeem Olajuwon. The press and the media gave N.C. State NO CHANCE of winning that game. After it was all over a miraculous half-court prayer turned alley-oop pass gave Valvano and the Wolf Pack an improbable 54 – 52 victory in one of the most dramatic NCAA finishes of all time.

Years later Drexler discussed the game. “That game had to be fate,” Drexler said. “Because if he doesn’t win that game, we don’t get to know Jimmy Valvano the way we do. And because of his, the way his life ended, I think it was destiny. It had to be. If we played them 20 times, I still don’t think they’d win but that one game. So it had to be destiny.”

Researchers seeking to find a cure for cancer also face quite daunting odds. Cancer is often referred to as an entropic disease, meaning it will occur spontaneously without any outside intervention. Many such processes are tough to stop or control and well know scientists have voiced their opinions, giving researchers no chance to find a cure, similar to the way that press gave Valvano no chance to beat Houston back in ’83. Nobel Laureate Linus Pauling was quoted as saying that “Everyone should know that the ‘War on Cancer’ is largely a fraud.” Fellow Nobel Laureate James Watson echoed Pauling’s opinions. When asked what he thought about cancer research Watson proclaimed it is “Intellectually bankrupt, fiscally wasteful, and therapeutically useless.”

Jimmy V pulled off one of the biggest miracles on the hardwood of the college basketball court and with the help of his foundation, and events such as Pelotonia, we can gain even more HOPE to find a cure.

But try if you can to support, whether it’s AIDS or the cancer foundation, so that someone else might survive, might prosper and might actually be cured of this dreaded disease. I can’t thank ESPN enough for allowing this to happen. I’m going to work as hard as I can for cancer research and hopefully, maybe, we’ll have some cures and some breakthroughs. We need your help. I need your help. We need money for research. It may not save my life. It may save my children’s lives. It may save someone you love. And ESPN has been so kind to support me in this endeavor and allow me to announce tonight, that with ESPN’s support, which means what? Their money and their dollars and they’re helping me-we are starting the Jimmy V Foundation for Cancer Research. And it’s motto is “Don’t give up, don’t ever give up.”

It is an uphill battle. We need help. We need enthusiasm. We need motivated individuals to raise funds to keep our HOPE. Help me. Help us. Help us keep the HOPE alive by putting together a team in the Crawl Against Cancer to support Pelotonia and Relay For Life.

HOPE is something that is contagious. As I sat next to mom as she laid on her death bed, I always wondered what drove her to keep fighting? It was the HOPE that as she fought she would inspire others. I think I love Jimmy V’s comments so much because they parallel exactly the same message mom was trying to convey to us. I was extremely priviledged and fortunate to have a kind and loving mother, who would do anything for me. Even in her last days, as she was weak and running out of time, there was one thing she never ran out of. She never ran out of HOPE. I HOPE that some day I can instill the same HOPE my mother instilled in me in others. I love you mom and I will never give up the HOPE.

Don’t Give Up…

Don’t Ever Give Up