Ride for Kids® Alex's Story

To all of you, I am a friend. To two, I am a son. To one, I am a brother. But to me, myself, I am one thing, a cancer survivor. In the words of the great German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, "that which does not kill you will only make you stronger." That is indeed a powerful statement, but never do those words hold as great a meaning than when pertaining to a cancer survivor. Cancer was something that loomed large in my life, always pervading my waking thoughts, destroying my body, and attempting to eat away at my spirit. Yet, those statements ring true for anyone, everyone that have had to overcome hardship of any magnitude. In this way we all battle our own personalized forms of cancer. Using cancer as a metaphor for hardship, we all have endured cancer and inevitably will be forced to endure it again. Cancer itself for me was the physical, very real, manifestation of evil and fear, yet all of you, all of us, must face our own demons on a regular basis.

In the bright years of adolescence, a time when children should only need to care about whom to take to the movies Friday night, a nightmare struck me in the form of cancer. This harsh shadow did diminish my physical body and put the good times to a very sudden, yet temporary, halt. I was diagnosed with a golf ball sized cancerous tumor three days before Christmas in the year 2000, a stocking stuffer I definitely would have traded for coal. Two brain surgeries, two days apart was a heinous awakening to the fact that the nightmare was a reality. The major criterion for my release from the hospital was if I would move unaided. After having part of the balance center in the brain removed and the effects similar to a stroke on the left side of my body, I stayed in the hospital less than three weeks. Be it sheer willpower, youthful resilience, or the inability to handle any more daytime television, I relearned how to walk with the help of my amazing parents and a therapist. Then came the hard part; two years of chemotherapy and radiation. Since my cancer was near the brain stem, my brain and spinal cord were targeted by the regimens. The effects of the straight hours of radiation and the long days of chemotherapy treatments resulted in a constant feeling of nausea and the expelling the contents of my stomach at least twice a day. Though my hairlessness and scars did not affect my being and soul, many were intimidated by such apparent damage. My easy-going personality and humorous comments set people at ease with themselves and defused awkward situations. I was quite successful at putting people at ease with this obvious disfigurement by the use of insightful quotes such as "I'm not bald, I'm just hair challenged!" and "With chemo you don't go bald, you go hairless! I guess that makes me an amphibian!" I was the proud owner of shirts that stated, "Bald is Beautiful," "Kickin' Cancer's ASS!" and "Who needs hair with a body like this?" I also informed a gullible few that the scars were the result of a "drag racing accident" or a "wicked bar fight in Mexico." These carefree quips alleviated the tension others felt with the fact that I knew how I looked, that I was OK with that, and I was still the same me Throughout all of this I learned that a sense of humor, good friends and family, and unwavering hope are the things we must cling to in uncertain times.

During A quote made popular by the movie Gladiator was, "Death smiles at us all, all a man can do is smile back." Take it from someone who was given a 50-50 chance for survival; smiling makes a world of difference. Fear exists until it is confronted. In facing cancer, the fear and possibility of death is ever-present. One cannot dwell on that fact but must cherish every second of life for that second maybe your last. Like the famous Frost poem, I was forced to take the road less traveled and that indeed has made all the difference. I have gained a perspective on life that few share and experienced things I hope you all will never have to.

Someone told me something that helped me to persevere in a time of struggle that I would like you all to think about and remember. I met a cancer survivor in a time when I had no hair, double vision, and barely able to walk under my own power. I was scared...oh so scared barely clutching to life. He told me, "there is always, always life in the fight," and truer, sweeter words have never been spoken.