Silence and the tin cup letter

Retirement and silence

Dear friend,

This is not what retirement was supposed to be like.

I want cancer dead—period.

Every morning I wake up to an indescribable silence. I eat a solitary breakfast, do solitary chores, eat a solitary lunch, go for a solitary walk, read and write in solitary confinement. At night, I put off going to bed for as long as possible, knowing I am going to an empty bed in an empty room in an empty house.

This is what it is to be a 62 year-old widower.

The silent killer

I am a widower because when my wife Jane was diagnosed with carcinoid cancer—also called NET cancer—it was a cancer seemingly no one had heard of. Worse, it was a cancer without a cure. It still is.

They will have options Jane never had.

Jane was 56 when she died. We were seven months from retirement. We were going to write books and travel and garden. We were going to turn off the alarm clock and wake in each other’s arms every morning.

Now, there is only silence and an empty house and a gravestone on a hill and tears that come out of nowhere.

The power of silence

I don’t want anyone else to experience that sinking feeling Jane and I knew when her primary care doctor told us he’d never heard of carcinoid cancer before—or the even greater sinking feeling we got when a local oncologist told us she had heard of it, but never seen a case.

That’s why twice a year I send a letter or email to everyone either one of us ever knew asking them to help fund research and education about this killer disease that takes at lest 12,000 American lives each year—and may have a hand in the misery of as many as three million Americans who will never know they have it.

It’s why I spend several hours every day working to learn about the disease and educate people about what it is, what it does, and the pathetic number of ways we have to treat it.

Walking in silence

It’s why I will spend hours

walking in circles at the Greater Fall River Relay for Life this June.

…it’s a start.

It’s why I will again walk from Hopkinton to Boston this September in the Boston Marathon Jimmy Fund Walk.

It’s why I swallow my pride and beg people at numerous events to contribute even a dollar to Walking with Jane.

Successes in silence

We’ve made progress since I started doing this almost three years ago. In 2013 the financial resources devoted to this disease increased to between $7 and $8 million. In 2010, that number was barely $2.5 million. That’s still a rounding error compared to what we spend on breast cancer research each year, but it’s a start.

I don’t want anyone else to experience that sinking feeling…

We have two new drugs that were not yet approved when Jane died; a radiation treatment that has been used for years in Europe is in Phase 3 trials in the US; two viruses—one in the US and one in Europe–are making their way through the trials process; two more drugs are in Phase 3 trials in the US; two new diagnostic tests are either in trials or getting ready to enter trials; and two old drugs that are used for something else—but seem to be very effective in treating carcinoid tumors–will soon enter a first Phase 3 trial.

Accepting the challenge

For new patients, all of this is good news. They will have options Jane never had. But funding cancer research—especially with very little help from either the government or major drug companies—is neither easy nor cheap.

Jane was 56 when she died.

So here I am with my tin cup again to ask for your help. Last year, the February letter raised nearly $4000—an amount that was doubled to over $7500 by a generous friend who agreed to match whatever that letter raised up to a total of $5000. That friend has upped the ante this year and will match all donations dollar-for-dollar up to $7500 total.

Killing the silent killer

I’ve seen cancer up close and personal too many times in the 42 months since Jane was diagnosed. I want cancer dead—period. And I will keep working on it until it is.

…I wake up to an indescribable silence.

Please help that effort any way you can.

Pax et lux,

Harry Proudfoot

Chairman, Walking with Jane Inc.

 

Walking with Jane, Inc. is 501(c)(3) non-profit charitable corporation

organized under the laws of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

Our dream is a cure for NET cancer--and an end to the disease. Our reality is an ongoing struggle.