This piece of advice may have added years to my mom’s life as in the summer of 2003 my mom was also diagnosed with breast cancer. Due to the long line ups in the Toronto hospitals associated to the SARS epidemic that was running through the city my mom’s lumpectomy surgery was delayed until the scare had settled down. When she finally did get the surgery the surgeon noticed that the cancer had spread, just a little, into the lymph nods and some had to be removed, but he was convinced they had got it all and after a few chemo treatments everything would be okay. Well, if you know about cancer it is spread through the lymph in your body and sadly by Christmas of 2003 the cancer was back and had found a home in her liver. The doctors told her that this type of cancer was inoperable. Something about if the tumour was exposed to oxygen it would spread exponentially, essentially running from the air.

At this time life was good for me, my football career was taking off, I had bought my first house in Ottawa, I had met my future wife, thing’s were good. When my mom told me that the cancer was back we had come back to Toronto to visit for the weekend and when the lights went out that night and everyone was in bed I cried like I have never cried before. I sobbed and sobbed, finding it hard to catch my breath. I thought “big boys don’t cry” but I knew what no son ever wants to know, that his mom was going to die.

Now I’m a pretty big boy, but I am also, and always have been a huge mama’s boy. I was raised to treat my mom, and all women like princesses (I wish I was better at this, but I try my best). No one said or did anything bad to my mom when I was around or else… But finding out that your mom (or wife or daughter) has inoperable terminal cancer is a feeling like no other. There is no one to defend your mom from, only a silent, invisible killer.

I always thought I got my toughness from my dad, but now I know I just have his temper (and his huge nose). My mom is definitley the toughest person I know. When the doctor told her she had 12 months to live in the summer of 2004 she said “No.” She set a goal for herself that I will never forget: May 2006. I don’t know why she chose this date, maybe because it was double what the docs were telling her or maybe she hoped to see her baby’s (me) baby, whatever it was she sold her self short.

In 2008 she traveled out here, against doctors orders, to checkout a Rider home game. This was awesome for me because my mom was not able to come to one of my games in years, not even the 2007 Grey Cup 20 minutes from her house in Toronto, too much walking.

My mom passed away on February 16th 2011. In the 8 years that she wasn’t supposed to be apart of, she got to see all of her grandchildren born and they each got to spend time with her, she also got to see what her own kids were like as adults and what her baby boy did when he finally grew up and stopped playing “that game”.  In those 8 year we had a lot of intimate conversations. I can honestly say that everything that needed to be said was said.

She would often tell, and show me that her main goal was not to become “a patient.” She drove my Dad nuts because she would never stay home. She was always either at the mall or hanging out with my nieces and nephew who live a few short blocks away. She took multiple new cancer meds and experimental treatments that kept her down for a few days but in my opinion the thing that has kept her running around 7 years after the experts said she’d be gone is that she refused to give into the disease, she wouldn’t be cancer’s patient and this is why I am so passionate about the “Run For the Cure.”

My wife, Kathie’s mom, Eileen, also had a battle with breast cancer and Kathie was her main support valve at the time. She is in full remission now but it was an ugly ruthless battle. Kathie and her mom exposed me to the “Run for the Cure” for the first time in Ottawa shortly after we found out that my mom’s illness was terminal. I went to the run (walk) that year not having raised a dime and truth be told I didn’t really want to do it. It was too soon, I didn’t want to see all the families who have lost their loved ones, nor did I want to see sick women moping around, I didn’t think I could take it. When we arrived at the walk our dog Jazz took a huge dump in the middle of the road, boy was that funny, but there were not any “patients” there and all those who had suffered loss were not moping around but celebrating the life of those who were not with them. Pink was everywhere, wigs, hats, boas, balloons, everything was pink! Bald women dancing in the streets, little girls wearing t-shirts with pictures of their moms on the front, it was great.and not one patient in the whole crowd.

We have now done the walk in every city we have lived in, Ottawa, Toronto, Winnipeg and Regina, and every year we raise a couple hundred bucks and in 2007 with the complete support of the Roughrider staff we blew the thing out of the water and showed people what Rider Nation can do once we got behind something and raised over $30,000. I don’t really understand what or how the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation spends the money on, I know it is research and experimental treatments that I don’t really understand but I do know, and it is clear to me that without a positive outlook patients are just waiting to die. My mom was never a patient and the ladies that do this walk are not patients either. It is heart warming to see them and their families in this walk. It is their day and we need to celebrate with and for our princesses.