- Alexandra “Alex” Scott was a 4 years old and fighting cancer. She decided to sell lemonade to raise money to cure cancer. Word spread, and she quickly collected $2,000. At age eight Alex relapsed and passed away. In those four years she had raised over $1 million. Today her family continues her legacy with Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation. They have raised over $60 million for childhood cancer research.
- · Georgia Cleland was diagnosed with leukemia at six years old. Her father decided to run the New York marathon to raise money. He trained a team of 38 runners, who collectively raised $322,000. They became Team in Training, and have now trained over 400,000 runners. Last year they passed the $1 billion mark in funds raised for cancer research.
- · Laura Graves was a teenager with leukemia, and could not find a matching bone marrow donor within her family. So they did what had never been done before... took the search to the general public for a match. After Laura's successful transplant, her family began creating a nationwide network to register bone marrow donors. They continued building their network, even after Laura passed away two years later from a relapse. Today, The National Bone Marrow Donor Registry houses a database of more than 11 million donors and facilitates in 200 life-saving transplants a month.
- · The day after my son was diagnosed with cancer, a large gift box arrived. The word “Victorious!" was written in bold letters on top. Alicia Rose, another teenager fighting cancer, had experienced the loneliness and unique struggles of teens on a children’s cancer floor. She decided to create gift packages, designed exclusively for teens fighting cancer. Today the Alicia Rose Victorious Foundation delivers gifts to teens with cancer throughout the U.S. They have also built Teen Centers in over 40 hospitals, with large, DVD players, movies, computers, video games, pool tables, air hockey tables, foosball tables, and more.
- · At age 14, A.J. Piniewski lost his battle with cancer. Only a few months later his father, Bob Piniewski, flew to MD Anderson in Texas to meet my son undergoing the same treatment. He came to comfort us, as well discuss his idea for a foundation to unify the voices of all the families fighting for a cure to childhood cancer. Today PAC-2 (People Against Childhood Cancer) promotes awareness, shares information, provides resources, and is now the largest data base of foundations, causes, and policy updates in the world of pediatric cancer.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Lance Armstrong - My Take
Six years ago I read Lance Armstrong’s book, “It’s Not About The Bike”. As a father of four very athletic boys, we were always impressed with Armstrong’s accomplishments. And the story of his fight with cancer was very inspirational. He wrote of meeting kids with cancer, and being inspired by their determination. He said, “If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them. We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or Fight Like Hell.”
A couple of things have changed since reading that book six years ago. The most recent change is Armstrong’s fall from grace. He’s guilty of doping to win his races, and admits it.
Another thing changed since I read his book, one much more personal. My son Tyler, 15 years old, was diagnosed with advanced stage IV Lymphoma and Leukemia. In an instant my son was thrown into the horrors of chemotherapy, surgeries, spinal taps, and bone marrow treatments. I confess that, prior to that, I never understood the meaning of the phrase “Fight Like Hell”. But on that day, November 14th, I became introduced to the ugly world of children fighting against cancer…innocence verses evil.
My son’s slogan became “Fight To Win”. Through a year of victories and setbacks, we often repeated our version of Armstrong’s quote, “We will never give up. We will Fight Like Hell. We will Fight to Win!”
Now Lance Armstrong is confessing to Oprah. He lied, cheated, and intimidated to win races,. And he also raised over $500 million for cancer research. So does the money he raised for cancer research offset the doping and lying?
Armstrong committed the sin of winning at all costs, and was rightly stripped of those wins. So here is my question: Was his sin any worse than the sin of doing nothing? Is cheating worse than never fighting? I’m not defending his cheating. I'm saying that if Lance can raise millions for LiveStrong, than I can do the same for childhood cancer. I don't care about his motivations. The only person I control is me. And my choice is to either sit on a sofa, or get off my butt and impact the world. Give up, or fight like Hell.
A friend reminded me that I am not a celebrity, that there are limits to what an average person can do. But is that true? Consider these ‘non-celebrities”.
None of these people are millionaires, actors, or sports heroes. They are just like you and me. And they all had a vision and a dedication to see it through. So can an average person with a passion really change things? It has been suggested that it might be the only way things ever really change.
So here is my response to what Lance Armstrong has done: It is to ask what have I done. What impact have I made? Right now, today. I have seen firsthand the horrors of childhood cancer. It is the #1 disease killer of U.S. children, 46 newly diagnosed a day. I know the lack of funding, lack of research. And I know that the only thing that matters is my response to these realities. That is the only thing I control.
Was Lance Armstrong apology sincere? I don't know and don't care. This is what I know. If Lance Armstrong can raise $500 million, than so can I. I will not lie down and accept random outcomes. I will not wait for "somebody" to do "something" about childhood cancer. I will call congress and I will sign petitions. I will run, bike, and shave my head for fund raisers. And when I think I’ve done enough, I will go back to the cancer floor at Children's and learn again the meaning of “Fight Like Hell, Fight To Win.”
These are the things I control, and the only things that matters. And now I need to go. Words without action are meaningless, and I’ve been on this computer too long.