We forget sometimes that people in the public eye are more than the persona we might see on TV or in the movies. And sometimes, they teach us more in their role as human beings than they possibly can as celebrities or politicians.

So when I heard last year that Sen. John McCain had been diagnosed with brain cancer — and, today, that he had opted to discontinue treatments — his status as a politician was the furthest thing from my mind. Instead, what took precedence was the grace he showed as a man. A man with a horrible disease and with a decision to make; a man surrounded by a supportive, loving and, I would guess, terrified family.

I have known too many people who have died from the disease he has, including more colleagues than I can count on one hand (most recently Jeffrey Weiss, who chronicled his experience); a really cute guy I knew in college; and a bubbly, beautiful neighbor whose laughter I can still hear.

U.S. Sen. John McCain from Arizona as he speaks at the Republican National Convention in Tampa in 2012. (Louis DeLuca / Staff Photographer)

When you receive such a horrible, can't-wrap-your-mind-around-it diagnosis, I would imagine that after you cry and hug and and wake up in the middle of the night scared out of your wits, you go online to check the odds. You pepper your doctor with questions. You feel weak, then strong and determined. Not everyone dies, you tell yourself. Maybe I'll be one of those who survive.

You set up a team; you become warriors. You start on medical regimens and eat healthier than you ever have. You think positive thoughts, surround yourself with positive people. You begin to meditate.

Sometimes that works. You defy the odds and, thank God, you get better. But what happens in the movies doesn't always happen in real life. And what you do then requires a whole new definition of courage.

Because sometimes saying no can take as much guts as saying yes.

"With his usual strength of will," McCain's family said in a statement, "he has now chosen to discontinue medical treatment. Our family is immensely grateful for the support and kindness of all his caregivers over the last year, and for the continuing outpouring of concern and affection from John's many friends and associates, and the many thousands of people who are keeping him in their prayers."

I don't know what, if any, other options McCain might have had. That doesn't matter now. What does is that he said no. His choice. His life. His decision.

For his courage, for his grace, for his determination and for his resolve, what more can we say than thank you, Sen. McCain. Godspeed.