It’s tough, finding the words to start this. How do you talk about the last year and a half and everything that has happened? In my mind, the average college student is spending time in class, making new friends, and overall enjoying the newfound independence and fun in their lives. I wish I could say that my college experience has been like that, but it hasn’t. My college experience has been me either in class, at home, or with my brother Pat while he battles the evil monster known as cancer inside of him.
I think about when Pat was diagnosed every single day. It was 2:30, 2:35 PM on a cloudy, damp afternoon on September 15th, 2017. I was at home, enjoying the final stretch of relaxation before I headed off to Emerson College in January. I was texting a friend of mine, asking her how her first couple weeks of college had been going when the screen on my phone changed. It said “Mom. Mobile.” I answered the call. “Hi Mom.” “Bren, where are you?” my Mom asked. “I’m at home. Why? What’s wrong?” “You need to get over to Tufts right now. Pat has cancer.” My entire world stopped. I wanted to scream but couldn’t say words. I wanted to move but I was frozen right then and there on my couch.
I arrived at Tufts with the rest of my siblings, my oldest brother Dan and my older sister Kay, and we went up to the 7th floor. We walked to a corner room and I saw Pat for the first time since hearing the news. He was in the hospital bed surrounded by my parents, his wife Amanda and members of Amanda’s family, and my cousin Andrew. Pat had his glasses on, IVs and other hospital machines hooked into him, and the Red Sox Rays game on that prehistoric looking Panasonic TV that was above the nurses whiteboard. I remember making eye contact with Pat and him saying “hey brother.” I used all the strength I had to make sure tears did not appear in front of him. I replied back, “hey brother.”
I think about when Pat was diagnosed every single day. It was 2:30, 2:35 PM on a cloudy, damp afternoon on September 15th, 2017. I was at home, enjoying the final stretch of relaxation before I headed off to Emerson College in January. I was texting a friend of mine, asking her how her first couple weeks of college had been going when the screen on my phone changed. It said “Mom. Mobile.” I answered the call. “Hi Mom.” “Bren, where are you?” my Mom asked. “I’m at home. Why? What’s wrong?” “You need to get over to Tufts right now. Pat has cancer.” My entire world stopped. I wanted to scream but couldn’t say words. I wanted to move but I was frozen right then and there on my couch.
I arrived at Tufts with the rest of my siblings, my oldest brother Dan and my older sister Kay, and we went up to the 7th floor. We walked to a corner room and I saw Pat for the first time since hearing the news. He was in the hospital bed surrounded by my parents, his wife Amanda and members of Amanda’s family, and my cousin Andrew. Pat had his glasses on, IVs and other hospital machines hooked into him, and the Red Sox Rays game on that prehistoric looking Panasonic TV that was above the nurses whiteboard. I remember making eye contact with Pat and him saying “hey brother.” I used all the strength I had to make sure tears did not appear in front of him. I replied back, “hey brother.”
Pat is my hero in life and also my best friend. Though we are 11 years apart, that has never held us back. From playing catch, attending Patriots games, going head to head in Madden, we have always been extremely close. The way Pat carries himself, the inner drive he has in his soul, just the person that he is, if I can become half the man that Pat is I would consider that alone to be a major accomplishment. Without Pat, I truly would not be who I am today. And to see him on that hospital bed, weeks after he and Amanda’s honeymoon and almost a month after their wedding, hearing he had cancer and the type it was, ever since that point, there has not been a day where I haven’t thought of that night and wanting to switch spots with him so he wouldn’t have to fight this monster inside him.
To this day, Pat has undergone numerous surgeries, scans, biopsies, and as we speak, 32 chemotherapy cycles. Every other Wednesday he finds himself at Dana Farber, pretty much spending the entire day there as he undergoes blood tests, meetings with his doctors, and taking on 4-5 hours of chemo that includes some of the most powerful and toxic chemo drugs such as Oxaliplatin. On average, a cancer patient can only take in 8-10 cycles including Oxaliplatin due to its powerful nature and damage it causes inside the patient’s body. Pat has done now 20+ Oxaliplatin included cycles. Along with that, he wears a 5FU Pump for 48 hours after his hospital visit to pump more chemo into his body.
To this day, Pat has undergone numerous surgeries, scans, biopsies, and as we speak, 32 chemotherapy cycles. Every other Wednesday he finds himself at Dana Farber, pretty much spending the entire day there as he undergoes blood tests, meetings with his doctors, and taking on 4-5 hours of chemo that includes some of the most powerful and toxic chemo drugs such as Oxaliplatin. On average, a cancer patient can only take in 8-10 cycles including Oxaliplatin due to its powerful nature and damage it causes inside the patient’s body. Pat has done now 20+ Oxaliplatin included cycles. Along with that, he wears a 5FU Pump for 48 hours after his hospital visit to pump more chemo into his body.
Every time I go to Dana Farber with Pat, I spend a lot of time thinking and looking around. Seeing the patients that are there, the nurses and doctors roaming around to help and assist them, the families surrounding the hospital bed. There are two patients that I have seen that I think about regularly. One day last winter, around the time of the Super Bowl, I remember seeing an older patient wearing a Philadelphia Eagles hat and jacket. He and his family were in a room across from Pat. I remember hearing them talk about “the drive up here.” I later found out that this gentlemen and his family drive up from Pennsylvania to Boston so the man can get his treatment. For someone who has to regularly drive 5-7 hours, through several states, in order for them to live on, it’s just something that no one should have to go through anymore.
The other patient I think about regularly is one I saw this past summer. I was in the parking lot area with Pat, Amanda, and my Mom. We were waiting to get into our car and head home after Pat’s chemo cycle. While we were sitting there, I remember seeing a little girl coming out of the elevator. She had to be no older than 8, bald, and wearing white Beats headphones. I just couldn’t believe the sight I was seeing firsthand. This little girl should be outside, having fun and playing with friends during summer vacation. Not in a hospital with IVs hooked into her and looking physically drained.
Seeing patients like the Eagles guy and little girl with the white beats as I remember them, and most of all seeing Pat, seeing what he has to go through, fighting for his life, those things have taken a toll on me. I am not afraid to admit I have had my days where I have been down and sad. Days when I would just not go to my classes and instead just sit in my dorm room and ask the question of Why? Why does Pat have to fight for his life? Why did it happen to him a month after him and Amanda’s wedding? Why? The possible reality of my brother not being around anymore, to say it is a scary one is an understatement.
But in the end, my brother is going to live on and beat this monster. I know my brother, and I know of the relentless warrior spirit inside of him. A spirit influenced by when our father beat cancer 15 years ago. A spirit influenced by becoming a Marine. A spirit that will never give up to cancer.
The other patient I think about regularly is one I saw this past summer. I was in the parking lot area with Pat, Amanda, and my Mom. We were waiting to get into our car and head home after Pat’s chemo cycle. While we were sitting there, I remember seeing a little girl coming out of the elevator. She had to be no older than 8, bald, and wearing white Beats headphones. I just couldn’t believe the sight I was seeing firsthand. This little girl should be outside, having fun and playing with friends during summer vacation. Not in a hospital with IVs hooked into her and looking physically drained.
Seeing patients like the Eagles guy and little girl with the white beats as I remember them, and most of all seeing Pat, seeing what he has to go through, fighting for his life, those things have taken a toll on me. I am not afraid to admit I have had my days where I have been down and sad. Days when I would just not go to my classes and instead just sit in my dorm room and ask the question of Why? Why does Pat have to fight for his life? Why did it happen to him a month after him and Amanda’s wedding? Why? The possible reality of my brother not being around anymore, to say it is a scary one is an understatement.
But in the end, my brother is going to live on and beat this monster. I know my brother, and I know of the relentless warrior spirit inside of him. A spirit influenced by when our father beat cancer 15 years ago. A spirit influenced by becoming a Marine. A spirit that will never give up to cancer.
My brother has been a pillar of strength for me. He has inspired me to appreciate life even more, and to do whatever I can for those I care about. And that includes the mission of doing whatever I have to do to help cancer researchers find a cure so no more lives will be damaged by cancer ever again.
Whenever I am feeling down, I like to think back to a moment that happened the night of Pat’s diagnosis. Pat asked if I wanted to walk around the hallway for a bit and I said sure. As Pat pulled his IVs with him, he asked me “so what’s the latest on Hightower?” Those that know us know we are big Boston sports fans, especially the Patriots. For those Pats fans, this was after the Chiefs came in and demolished us Week 1 42-27, and Dont’a Hightower got hurt. “Not sure. They said he hurt his shoulder during the second half.” “He better be back soon, man. The defense sucks again per usual. Gilmore didn’t play well. Everyone sucks!” Pat proclaimed. What may seem like a very small moment has been a pick me up for me this last year and a half. Though Pat fights one of the deadliest cancers out there, he hasn’t let the cancer stop him from being him, especially the part of him that rants about the Patriots defense being awful basically every single week during the season.
Life can throw us many curveballs. Life can try all it wants to bring us down permanently. But to quote Pat, we have to “just stand. Never back down. Never give in.” We all have this inner strength inside all of us, an inner strength that only ourselves can understand, that helps us keep going no matter the obstacle. A strength that will keep us standing tall.
And Pat, whenever you are reading this, you will win this war. You will. You are not less of a man. You are more than a man. You are Superman. I love you brother.