A statistic I found on the Lance Armstrong Foundation page:
Of adults diagnosed with cancer today, 64% will be living five years from now.
Thirty years ago the five-year survival rate was under 50%. When I was a kid, the very word cancer was spoken in hushed tones. Today you hear it paired with fight, battle, and beat, and it isn't whispered.
Except when you also hear lost.
My cousin's husband lost last week, pancreatic cancer. A cousin on the other side of the family has esophageal cancer. She's not really able to speak any more, but over the weekend she had a day good enough to call my grandmother to say goodbye.
All the yellow wristbands in the world aren't changing these two stories, but if I have to shift with my teeth I'm riding the Tour of Hope's DC Fundraising Ride on Saturday.
Posted by Nic at October 4, 2005 06:14 PM | TrackBack