You’re 29. A lawyer at a well respected firm in the Boston area. You’re living in Southie and and enjoying life. The world is at your hands. Then… you feel something. You know it’s not right. No one believes you, not even your primary care physician.

You advocate for yourself and finally get some answers. Your roommate is with you when they tell you it’s cancer. Stage 3. They will try everything they can. Chemo, then radiation. The world as you know it (and the world of your family) collapses around you.

You receive IV chemotherapy every Monday. The nurses crack jokes as best they can. The most compassionate cleaner (Luz - “light” in Spanish), comes to see you every week. You loose most of your luscious head of black curly hair in the shower on a weekday. Your roommate helps you bag it up in a rite aid plastic bag before you can see how much is lost. No one knows what the outcome will be.

It’s 11-ish years later. You established your own Law Firm. You got married not too long ago. Your roommate was the officiant at your wedding. A wedding at the time we didn’t know would happen.

My dear friend Nicole is the cancer survivor.

I am the roommate.

I am fighting for her and many others.

I am fighting for another dear friend of mine, Lindsey, who held the same fate, and came out a glorious survivor on the other end. She is absolutely beautiful, inside and out. She is the epitome of strength. And I fight for her sweet, sweet, father, Bill (a true Boston sports fan), who succumbed to his cancer fate earlier this year.

They are my inspiration.

I fight for my Uncle John who has victoriously overcome numerous bouts of melanoma, primarily because of his extraordinary care at Dana Farber. He is a true hero for the support he has already given. He is one of the most generous people I know. He is an Irish legend.

I fight for my dear friend Meaghan. She was a badass who lost her fight.

She never told anyone she was suffering until the very end, and she STILL never lost faith. A little story - I didn’t want a wedding shower, but in true Southie fashion, she broke into my apartment with my sister to find out what my fiancé and I needed for housewares.
I cherish every towel and wine glass we have from her. I pray for her and MB.

I fight for Kristen O’Keefe. She knows why. Her family knows why. They have become our family in the past few years and I know she is the ultimate Guardian Angel looking down and protecting her children with the ultimate love and affection that only a mother can have. She was taken too young, only God knows why.

I fight for my dear cousin, Martha. She also lost her battle. I never knew a more creative and pure human. She only knew truth. She only projected love. She loved this world we live in and I hope you love it more after reading about her. I miss you, cous.

I fight for Susan. The first person I ever knew to lose the battle with cancer. She was my mother’s best friend and our next door neighbor as a kid. She was a light in my life. An absolutely wonderful human being with a heart that couldn’t be contained. Sue, I can’t wait to hug you in paradise.

I fight for Bobbie, my client who hated to work out, but never complained one bit. She had a heart of gold that lives on in her children and new grandsons.

I fight for those who have suffered and those who are suffering now.

I fight for those who will suffer.

If you have read this far, thank you.

Thing is, we all have these stories. We all know people who have suffered and have been taken too soon. This is for all your stories as well. Please consider giving anything you can. 🤍

#KOCANCER