Today’s a pretty interesting day for me. Today is the one year anniversary of the day that started me on a journey I never thought I’d be on. A year ago today was the day that a simple doctor’s appointment turned into something more. A ride down a road that I’ve never been.

I’m celebrating something today. I’m celebrating what I’ve come to understand about myself. I’m celebrating what I’ve come to understand about others.

October 5, 2005 saw me being hospitalized in a mad rush to explore what turned out to be non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Last night, as I sat on my couch, I couldn’t help but drift back to a year ago. I remember what a scary time it was. I knew very little about cancer. I only knew that it took the lives of some older family members of mine. The thought that I had cancer, while still in my twenties, was so incomprehensible that I almost couldn’t believe it. I thought I would be dead very soon.

Soon after this day I would meet some new people who would enter my life in a very unique way. My oncologist, radiologist and nurses at Dana Farber would take a pivotal role in my battle to regain my health. I’ve been so fortunate so have such caring, empathetic, and intelligent medical resources in my life. Obviously, I still work closely with them as I still ride down this road. I owe a lot to them.

I also owe a lot to the millions of people that are affected by cancer everyday. Cancer doesn’t only disrupt the lives of people with it, it also has an impact of the people surrounding that patient. Family, friends, co-workers, employers…think of it, you’re probably reading this right now because you’re following my journey…or, you probably found this site by searching the web with cancer-related keywords because you, or someone you know, might be facing this.

1 in 3 people will be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime.

That is a fact…nobody is alone.

I’ve cleared two significant hurdles as I look back on the last year. The first was getting through my treatment. My cancer treatment (CHOP chemotherapy + rituximab and radiation) wasn’t easy. I wouldn’t lie to you. It pushed me beyond what I thought I was limited to. I had numerous (and often life threatening) speed bumps, but I made it through so that I could see the second hurdle…which was my first post-treatment scan. Getting a “thumbs up” from this first (of many more to come) PET scan meant that I could start to re-enter the world I had been missing.

What I wanted to do when re-entering this world wasn’t very clear. I knew that I needed to do the usual, everyday stuff…like, get a job, spend more time and energy with my son, go to the gym and paint the downstairs bedroom. The ability to do these simple things was taken from me by cancer, and my battle against it…I knew that I would need to re-claim them. And I have.

But there is a need for something else…something greater than just getting my own life back together. My experiences, my feelings, my story – they’re all here for some reason. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I know that I need to help people. I need to use my talents, resources, contacts and determination into some kind of action to help men, women and children struggling against cancer.

A good friend, Beth, sent me Lance Armstrong’s autobiography when I was struggling through my treatments. She had read the book and told me that it was an inspiring story, and she felt that it would have a positive impact on my fight against cancer. I began reading the book one day while I was receiving my chemotherapy…truth is, I didn’t get very far with it. Some of what he wrote made me feel VERY uncomfortable. I had to put it down. It scared me too much. When Beth asked me what I thought about the book, I lied and told her it was great.

Sorry, Beth. I didn’t want to tell you the truth that you gave me a book that scared the shit out of me. :)

After I cleared that second hurdle of my first post-treatment PET scan, I picked the book back up. I read every page with a new set of eyes. It is the most significant book I’ve ever read in my life. It has afforded me the chance to put my past year into perspective and, more importantly, has helped me put some words to the feelings I’ve had.

Its called “survivorship” – and it’s the most powerful and inspiring force I’ve ever experienced. As scary and demoralizing as finding out you have cancer, the feeling of coming out on the other side dwarfs that in a positive way.

It is the antithesis of “diagnosis.”

As you probably already know, I’m preparing to attend the LiveSTRONG Summit in Austin, TX later this month. I’ve been lucky enough to have been selected among all the people who have applied to attend. Every time I stop to think about this trip, I get butterflies. The goal of this summit (obviously put together by the Lance Armstrong Foundation) is to inspire those attending to broaden awareness and impact the unmet physical, emotional and practical needs of people living with cancer.

I know it is going to help me put some words and actions to my feelings and drive. I hope that this summit, and the people I will meet, will help me put my action plan together.

10/5 is always going to be a day of reflection for me. I’m taking the single scariest day of my life, and I’m turning into a positive celebration of life. I’m not just celebrating that I’m here…but I’m also celebrating that YOU’RE here too! I’ll think about what life is, and what it can be. What actions can we take to make tomorrow better than today? How can we live “stronger” for ourselves, our families, and our planet?

I’ll be raising a pint tonight, and I hope you do too.

Happy October 5th!