 Relay
For Life
The American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life is more about
people than it is about cancer.Don’t get me wrong, if it
weren’t for cancer, we wouldn’t have the Relay. But if it
weren’t for the indomitable spirits of so many wonderful
human beings, cancer would be quietly eating its way through
countless bodies—and lives—and taking control.
Most of us know at least one victim of cancer: I lost my
mother eight years ago and a very dear friend two years ago.
But how many of us know people who are the victims of
cancer? People who fought the battle, won, and are still
winning? People who are taking control of their cancer?
Have you seen Lance Armstrong’s recent television
commercial? All you see on the TV screen is his face and all
you hear is his one-on-one chat with cancer. It’s a
spit-in-your-face conversation, with him thanking cancer for
making him a stronger, better person.
Many cancer survivors have that same attitude; many friends
and loved ones of cancer victims do as well.
Dr. Gordon Klatt, a colorectal surgeon in Tacoma,
Washington, was one of those friends. In May of 1985, as a
way to personally help raise funds for fighting cancer, he
spent 24 hours on a university track and clocked over 83
miles.
 Throughout
that 24-hour period, friends paid $25 for the privilege of
helping him raise funds by walking or running with him for
30 minutes. Dr. Klatt raised $27,000. The following year,
the first Relay for Life took place; 19 teams participated
and raised $33,000.
Communities all over the country hold Relays. Missoula’s
Relay for Life is held at Big Sky High School in June of
each year. It begins late in the afternoon on a Friday and
continues overnight until mid-morning on Saturday. Numerous
teams band together to raise money for the American Cancer
Society’s fight against cancer. Each team consists of about
8-12 members; each team member commits to raise at least
$100 in donations prior to the event. Team members walk the
track during the entire event; at least one team member is
walking at all times.
The community gathering celebrates current and former cancer
patients, their families, caregivers and supporters. Tents
are pitched for team members staying overnight;
entertainment is provided; an endless supply of food and
treats sustain team members and supporters. The atmosphere
is one of celebration and sharing: everyone brings a cooler
of munchies, lawn chairs, warm clothing and a heart filled
with love and hope.
Cancer survivors and their caregivers kick off the Relay for
Life by walking the first lap around the track. They receive
tee shirts in a color different from those of the other
participants and their special brand of courage is applauded
during their victory lap. Last year, I constantly sought out
the people wearing the dark purple shirts throughout the
event—they were a tangible sign of perseverance and triumph.
After dark, a Luminaria Ceremony is held to remember those
who have lost their battle with cancer and to pay tribute to
those who have survived. Candles are placed inside decorated
containers that line the entire track, sometimes two and
three deep; each bears the name of a special person. All are
left to burn during the evening. An announcer reads the name
of each individual and, while the ceremony is solemn, many
survivors walk the track during it, bearing testimony to
those indomitable spirits I mentioned earlier. Those of us
who have loved ones to remember tend to walk during the
entire Luminaria ceremony, saying our prayers and listening
for the sound of those very special names.
Saturday morning’s events revolve around congratulating the
teams, and individual team members, not only for their
fund-raising achievements but also for their personal
successes in walking many miles.
How many miles, I wonder, do the survivors walk? Not around
the track during Relays, not up and down corridors in
hospitals and medical facilities, not pacing in the privacy
of their homes, but in life experience, in adversity, in
growth.
I spoke recently with Missoula resident, Brendan Moles, a
cancer survivor. Brendan believes that he’s more attuned to
the important things in life now, more aware. He actually
told me he’s lucky. I swear it, that’s what he said. How can
someone who survived cancer, and the chemo and radiation,
and the emotional roller coaster, and yes—that awful,
gripping fear, how can he truly believe he’s lucky?
I guess it’s all in your perspective. Brendan said that his
cancer was caught in its early stages and that Hodgkin’s is
one of the forms of cancer that has a high recovery rate. I
understand that his cancer wasn’t as advanced, or serious,
or threatening—like my friend’s cancer, which was diagnosed
as terminal right from the start. But I still don’t buy that
Brendan’s Hodgkin’s was “lucky” cancer.
It’s been eight years since Brendan’s last treatment and
there are no signs of returning cancer. Sure, he said, he’s
more likely to get Leukemia than the next guy, but it
doesn’t mean he’s going to get it. And sure, his Hodgkin’s
might come back. But his doctor doesn’t think it will, his
research indicates that he has an excellent chance of not
having cancer knocking at his door again, so he chooses to
believe he’s fully cured. Yep, he says, he’s lucky.
Brendan Moles possesses one of those indomitable spirits I
mentioned. He’s a soft-spoken guy, unassuming, seemingly
normal. But deep down inside, where it counts, he possesses
a courage that I hope I never have to dig deep for. I may
not find it.
Think about those people you know, the people who’ve battled
cancer. What kind of strength does it take to stare cancer
in the eye and face your mortality? What kind of endurance
does it take to live your life, beating back the fear and
refusing to give it control? What kind of courage does it
take to know that today may be the last time you’ll kiss
your wife? Or that tomorrow your daughter might not have a
father? How do you handle all those things and not fall
apart?
I doubt I’ll ever again complain about aching feet after
walking around a track for a few hours. I probably won’t
whine about the cold, or too-bright lights at night, or the
drive home at 1:00am on the Friday night of this year’s
Relay.
When compared to the battles, struggles, and hardships of
countless cancer victims, trotting around that track for
sixteen hours is really a piece of cake.
Why don’t you join us this June? Show your support for these
indomitable spirits by joining a team, volunteering for the
American Cancer Society, or simply showing up and cheering
them on. For more information about Missoula’s Relay for
Life, contact Board Member Deirdre Flaherty at 549-6718.
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