Defined by Gratitude

Often cancer survivors are singularly described as ‘brave’, and though I do believe that in order to overcome cancer you must have bravery and be courageous, but I often reject that description for myself personally. I didn’t decide to have cancer; I didn’t put myself into harm’s way to help someone else. I don’t consider myself brave. Instead, I think of myself as grateful. My whole being is defined by gratitude.

Gratitude for the advances in medicine to treat my disease, for the immense amount of support I have been given my entire life, for the love and grace of my family, for the capacity and multitudes of willpower and strength I am capable of, and perhaps most importantly, I’m grateful for the life that I am so fortunate to live as a survivor. And from that life, I have been lucky to have found the Ulman Foundation where my drive to help others with my unique experience has also granted me the critical support I’ve needed as a patient and survivor.

And I would like to thank you, whoever you, for reading what has been the most cathartic experience I’ve had describing my story with intimacy, vulnerability, and the hope that it will help others who might relate.

As I’ve previously explained, it took me many years to come to terms with this title of cancer survivor and what the responsibility (self-imposed or not) that I have. So, I appreciate you giving me the time and opportunity to reveal a lot about myself at this current stage in my journey, which certainly continues to evolve, but I’m blessed to be in a place of health and balance to be use this platform to share with you.

Similarly to how us survivors have a unique, unsaid bond, I also believe in the human condition – that even though we don’t know each other, we are connected as humans and are meant to share and connect with each other.

Most likely if my experience does not directly relate to you, there is someone in your life it might relate to and possibly help for them to hear and be impacted by.

Therefore, with the intent of Ulman’s “Give and Get Support” credo, I ask you to share my story with them in the hopes that they too can find hope, comfort, connection, or understanding from it.

As my life’s next adventures take me to faraway places in seek of further enriching new experiences, like the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro with the Ulman Foundation in October, I hope that my story provides a grounding place of support, inspiration, and connection for anyone battling this terrible disease, young adult or not.

And for those ever needing the support, I would like to share with you the art and science of what I believe helped me throughout my journey and continues to drive me in my life today. The art of positive thinking is incredibly powerful and one that must be practiced and crafted. (As once told to me by a fellow Ulman flag-carrying Mike – literally we both carried the Ulman flag during Baltimore half marathons – he calls it PMA: Positive Mental Attitude.)

It can be incredibly challenging to remain steadfastly positive throughout any of life’s challenges, especially a cancer battle, but I promise that through relentless positivity, constantly looking forward, believing in the ability of manifesting your preferred reality, and finding the good in even the hardest of times, it will reap benefits.

Scientifically, this can yield literal physical positive outcomes as well, commonly known as positive neuroplasticity. It is the brain’s innate ability to adapt, grow, and reorganize its neural connections in response to new experiences, thoughts, and behaviors. Through deliberate practice, you can intentionally rewire your neural pathways to strengthen positive traits like resilience, gratitude, and self-compassion and hopefully manifest positive physical results.

As John Milton famously stated in Paradise Lost, a quote I have forever lived by, so much so that I spoke of its power of perception and mental fortitude in my high school graduation speech: “The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

From the bottom of this full, hard-worked, appreciative, stent-treated heart, I thank you for being part of my survivor’s journey.