Five days, three trails, and 30-plus miles is what brought together this group of 19: patients with MPNs, survivors, caregivers and supporters, all with one common goal – to raise awareness and funds for continued research for MPNs. Little did we know that our time together over five short days and trekking those 30-plus miles would also build an unbreakable bond between us. One that some might never understand, unless they experienced it for themselves. It was on those trails that I learned about people’s families and children, their careers and hobbies, their life goals and, more importantly, their personal journey with cancer. More vulnerably, my teammates spoke about their biggest fears in life – some related to cancer, and the toll it has taken on their loved ones and will continue to make in the future. I wanted to hug them so tightly and never let go. I wanted to heal them or their loved ones of cancer.

One quote that I saw early on when my dad was newly diagnosed and starting out on his cancer journey was “If my love could cure your cancer, you would be healed.” It was on those switchbacks up and down the mountain that I had this exact feeling. I was listening to everyone’s stories and wishing I could take their pain away. These people, my new family of people that I already love so much, ones with the biggest hearts and only the best intentions for others, I wanted them all and their loved ones to be healed. These people are living with cancer, but the whole time were vocally concerned about how the rest of us were feeling during our climb, offering their last drops of water, or if they could help anyone with blisters and other injuries. Pure, good people. It was then that I was reminded why we were embarking on this adventure and realized that we must stay diligent in our quest to raise awareness and funds for finding a cure for MPNs, and all other cancers at that.

Some mornings, it was so exhausting to get out of bed early to embark on another eight- to 12-mile trek, with blistery feet, sore legs, and an aching back, but it was also so invigorating to do it with such a unique group of people. How could I ever complain about doing so when six of my fellow adventurers get out of bed every morning and embark on a journey a million times more challenging than anything we were about to face that day: a cancer journey. A journey that is tiring and unforgiving with nothing to hold onto, but you must continue to climb – just like the Carthew Summit trail. So, I strapped up my boots and hit the trails.

On our second hike, I vividly remember walking alongside Gary, who is a patient with an MPN and someone I can now confidently look to as a father-like figure and lifelong friend in my life, beaming in excitement as we were about to reach the peak of Carthew Summit and telling him that we were defining cancer and no longer letting cancer define us. What I meant by this is that although a cancer diagnosis is gut-wrenching and life altering, it is not a free ride to the end of enjoying your life. Oftentimes, patients with cancer and their loved ones allow for a diagnosis to put their lives on hold, restrict them from doing and experiencing some of life’s greatest moments, and stops them from being present and enjoying experiences like this one. I am confident that we can change that because we did so in those moments. I was walking side-by-side up a mountain, 7,000-plus feet in the air, together with a patient with cancer and watching him seriously enjoy life and doing extraordinary things while living with cancer. I feel so blessed to have shared this experience with Gary. The bonding moment is etched in my heart forever and the view at the top of the mountain is something I will have engraved in my mind eternally.

So, I will say it again: Cancer does not define a patient. The patient defines their cancer journey. I am happy to have witnessed this group of patients define a minor portion of their journey. And, with continued research and advancements in treatment options, I am confident that patients can continue to define their life journey without cancer. I cannot wait for that day!