Sharing Jon Lester's Joy

BOSTON -- It's embarrassing but I have to admit I was asleep when Jon Lester completed his no-hitter last night. Fatigue is one of the frustrating side effects that lingers after my year and a half of breast cancer treatment. But when I saw the news this morning, I felt like a proud sister. I'm not the only one.

I arrived at the gym and one of the men working at the front desk told me his son had also survived non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. He had tears in his eyes talking about the amazing feat he watched on TV last night.

"You don't feel tired in that situation," Lester told reporters. "You've got so much adrenaline going."

Many of us relied on adrenaline and a stamina we didn't know existed to get through the chemotherapy Lester also endured. Those of us in Red Sox nation whose lives have been touched by cancer are so inspired by what this 24-year-old lefty has accomplished. People may think cancer leaves you weaker, but Lester proves with hard work you can emerge stronger than ever and much more mentally determined.

We cheered when Lester returned to the game after successful treatment. We understood his frustration at not moving along quickly enough and being so eager to get back in the game. Then we watched with tears as Lester earned the victory in Game 4 at Colorado to complete the Red Sox sweep in the 2007 World Series.

"I can't tell you which one means more to me than the other," Lester said. "The World Series is, obviously, the World Series. How many people get to say they've won that? And a no-hitter is a no-hitter. How many people can say they've done that?"

Not many of us. So we live through your accomplishments, Jon Lester. They give so many survivors hope that we too can enjoy moments both big and small in our own lives.

I can remember when the station asked if I would like to go on long-term disability for the duration of my cancer treatments and I was adamant that would be a bad idea. I needed to keep working. As ABC's Robin Roberts, also a breast cancer survivor, put it so well to me during an interview, "It's the few hours a day I can feel like myself again, not a cancer patient."

We, like Jon Lester, are desperate to stay in the game. We don't want to be counted out.

A few days ago, I completed my last chemotherapy treatment. I have taken a drug called Herceptin by I.V. infusion for the past year. The nurses at Dana Farber sang to me and gave me a cake to mark the occasion. It was a wonderful feeling to be done. And I will forever be grateful to the amazing caregivers who did so much for me and my family.

I was diagnosed December 2006 and finally finished chemo in May of 2008. I am so ready to put cancer in my rear view mirror. I had another surgery in April to continue putting "Humpty Dumpty" back together again and am starting to look more like myself.

I have hair, but I have to say I hate it. It's a curly mess that seems to grow out not down. It's a struggle to control and look professional. But it's just hair. It's just hair. My daughter Maddie and I were playing "Guess How Much I Love You" and she asked me if my love for her was a big as my hair!

My girls are great. Madeline is four and Cecilia will turn two in June. Brendan and I are enjoying every minute of them and are looking forward to a much more fun and laid back summer than last year.

My gratitude goes out to all of you who continue to check in and send warm thoughts. My life has been enriched by the many cancer patients, survivors and family members I have come to know over the past year. You all continue to be a huge source of support and inspiration to me and my family.

There are more than 11 million cancer survivors in America. People like Jon Lester and so many others are changing the image people have of survivors. That was an exciting night for Lester, the Red Sox and fans around the world. They saw a rare no-hitter. But cancer survivors and their families saw something entirely different. We saw hope. And sometimes that's all a cancer patient has.