Just over 12 years ago, I learned that I had cancer. My youngest son was five. We had just relocated to DC, and my wife was starting a new job. The treatments were harsh and lasted two years. I felt like I was walking through life then in a Damocles-like cancer fog. This past spring, the cancer came back, and I started new treatments at Georgetown. When cancer happens, we don’t really have a choice. We have to bear up. And that changes us.
Recently, in the radiation oncology waiting room, I met a mother and daughter duo, one more beautiful than the other, hands and eyes locked together in support, their love palpable. The mother told me that this was her sixth cancer. She beat the previous five, and she was beating this one too. It wasn’t that long ago that people couldn’t do that. This doesn't happen without individual support. That's why I'm riding.
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