Just a few days ago I learned my (much older) step-brother’s grandson, Brendan, was just diagnosed with a rare form of cancer called angiosarcoma. If that’s not devastating enough, let me tell you this little guy is only 6 years old. His mother is only a year older than I am, and as a mother myself (and someone who knows firsthand the hell it is to experience and fight a direct family member’s cancer) I can only imagine the horror she’s living. From what I’ve understood, it was pure luck that they caught it at its early stage. The doctors found some tumor(s) in his foot while evaluating him for some complications he had in the healing of a broken bone (toe or such) that happened months ago. I’m not sure of the details, his specific prognostics, or the treatments he’ll be getting. All I know is that the road that lies ahead is not going to be an easy one for Brendan or his family. Ever since I got the news I cannot stop thinking about him and how the odds played such a strange roll in his case. I’m so humbled, and so grateful for my family’s good health; I thank God every day. I pray for Brendan and his family daily, and I keep reminding myself to not ever take my blessings for granted.

Brendan’s story reminded me that I should continue to spread the word on cancer awareness and screenings. Not that I haven’t been doing so over the course of the last two thirds of my life. Telling my personal family cancer stories over and over again over the years has been a means of spreading the word on awareness. It can happen to anyone, anytime. When the disease is such a global epidemic I don’t think anyone should think that these stories are too personal to tell. There is definitely no shame in any aspect of it in any way. It’s only made us all stronger.