Jay - 34
Cancer. We talk about it, we ride to conquer it, we run to find a cure for it, all with the hope of finding that elusive miracle. But what keeps a childhood cancer survivor like me up at night?
I was 3 years old when I was diagnosed with retinoblastoma, the most common eye cancer in children. It left me gratefully alive but unfortunately half-blind and wondering “When and what is my next battle?”
Cancer survivors are at an increased risk of developing secondary cancer. Radiation, chemotherapy, and the cancer itself all contribute to an increased risk of developing a second tumor. While I was in high school, my dad, hit with a second cancer, sadly passed away. Being the less than thoughtful teenager I was, I navigated it alone. Over the years, the little nagging thought at the back of my head kept arising. “When and what is my next battle?”
On March 6th , 2023, it arrived. An email weighing more than its words. “Jay, you have a 3-millimetre tumor in your head. It is benign but it could grow and press against your brain. 10% of the population aged 35 and up have this tumor. Oh, and 0.5% die.” Absorbing this at a lightning pace, I thought “Wait, what 0.5% die?” As a new father of a 14-month-old, at that moment, 3-millimetres felt like a million-pound mountain. I broke down, wanting so badly to see my daughter Madison grow up, learn how to drive, graduate high school. And yet my battle was far from over.
Before I got the tumor, I had a career in corporate strategy at a digital healthcare company. You would think that I had a cheat sheet for cancer. Unfortunately, no playbook prepares you for that moment of truth. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the medical must-haves. Comprehensive care plans, the right specialists, routine check-ups, proper treatment options, check, check, check! But as I began to navigate my millimeter mountain, I realized something profound. The cure for cancer is not just about the medicine, it is equal parts about a caring community. Having a caring community required talking about my tumor with family and friends, the ones I didn’t want to know I had it. I know what you are thinking, “discussing tumors at dinner? I’d rather discuss my Google search history!” Yep, vulnerability is hard.
In 2014, a study by Wagner Galli showed that the social sharing of emotions improves subjective feelings and activates neural reward circuitry. They had pairs of friends view three types of pictures that were positive, negative, and neutral. While the two friends were physically separated throughout the experiment, they were made aware on a trial-by-trial basis whether they were viewing pictures simultaneously with a friend (shared) or alone (unshared). Ratings of subjective feelings improved significantly when participants viewed pictures together than alone, shown in the ventral striatum and medial orbitofrontal cortex, two components of the brain that emphasize reward circuitry. What does that mean? By socially sharing their emotional experiences, individuals had modified their subjective perception of these experiences (positive or negative) in a positive manner.
Building a caring community meant that I needed courageous conversations. About a month into my diagnosis, I chose courage. I thought to myself “Share what I can.” I spilled my fears and hopes to family, friends - even my barber Frank. I shared my truth with all of them. Here is the magic. The more I spoke, the more the mountain appeared to shrink in size. Instead, it felt more like a hill, one that we began to climb together. Friends who had never seen me cry offered not just their shoulders, but their hearts, turning my “care plan” into a “we-care plan.”
You see, the cure for cancer is not just chemotherapy, it is a caring community. The less we share, the less our community will understand our experiences. The cure to cancer isn’t just tucked away in a sterile lab, it ALSO resides in the hugs of your family, the check-ins of friends, and yes, even the awkward conversations around the dinner table. While medicine treats the body, a caring community heals the soul.
Music - Jay’s music choices during our photo session included Noah Kahan, Jon Batiste, Quinn XCII and Jonathan Ogden.
