Among the hundreds of competitors gathered on the beach, I find Daniel DeHoyos waiting for me. He is tall and muscular, and his friendly strength gives me confidence. And here is Kasia in her black wetsuit! We look like a herd of seals on this tiny beach. I stand out, as I’m in a special red cap that is given to people who may experience distress during the swim. Still, I feel so proud to be one of them. I’m scheduled to start my swim in the second-to-last cohort (or wave) of competitors. Kasia will hit the lake five minutes after me, in the final group of swimmers.
When I get ready to dive into the water, I hear an announcement through a loudspeaker: “Barbara Lipska, a multiple cancer survivor, is starting now!” A quick thought passes through my brain: This must be Jake’s doing, this publicity stunt! Two weeks before the race, Jake wrote an article about our unusual team for the Wall Street Journal, “A Triathlon Is Easy Next to Soviets and Polio.” It was a beautiful tribute to Mirek and me and our family. (Only after the race do I learn it was Daniel’s idea to make this announcement!)
Waiting for the start of the Quassy triathlon with Daniel DeHoyos and Kasia.
People are cheering for me as I jump into the water! And then I hear only splashing, arms cutting through the water, legs kicking. I try not to lose sight of Daniel, who is swimming right in front of me with a red rescue buoy attached by a rope to his powerful torso. It feels great to follow him so easily, to be safe in his presence.
At the huge orange buoy that marks the first turn for swimmers, Kasia appears in the water right next to me. Even though I started before she did, she is already passing me, and she yells, “Mum, are you okay?”
“Of course I am!” I scream back above the din, and I continue my swim.
As I follow Daniel, I begin to feel great—relaxed, and so happy that I am competing in a real race. It takes me fifty minutes to swim the 1.2 miles. When we reach shallow water, Daniel and I stand and embrace each other as the small crowd at the beach screams and cheers for us again.
I run to Mirek as fast as I can. He kisses me and grabs our timing chip, then hugs and thanks Daniel.
“Life is a team sport!” Mirek says, beaming with joy. As he takes off on his bike, he turns back and shouts to us: “And remember, my love, we’ll conquer this beast!”
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my family for always standing by my side and caring for me in the hardest of times, especially my husband, Mirek Gorski. Thank you to my children, Kasia Lipska and Witek Lipski, for your love and always being there for me. Thank you to my sister, Maria Czerminska, for showing amazing dedication to finding the best options to save my life. Thank you to Jake Halpern and Cheyenne Noble, the loving spouses of my children, and to my brother-in-law, Ryszard Czerminski, for your unwavering support. Thank you also, Jake, for your encouragement and help with the op-ed article I wrote for the New York Times, without which this book would not exist, and for introducing me to Elaine McArdle, my co-writer and now a dear friend.
Thank you, Agata and Jason Ketterick and Jan Czerminski, for quietly cheering for my survival. Thank you also to my devoted extended family, Tamar Halpern and Paul Zuydhoek, for being such good friends when I needed you most, and Steven Halpern and Betty Stanton, for your kindness and support. And last but not least, thank you to my brilliant grandsons, Lucian and Sebastian, who kept me going in my darkest hours.
I’d like to express my gratitude to the doctors who treated and cared for me: my wonderful family doctor of nearly thirty years, Dr. Eugene Shmorhun; Dr. Michael Atkins at the Georgetown Lombardi Comprehensive Cancer Center in Washington, DC, and his team, in particular Kellie Gardner; the team at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston, in particular Dr. Stephen Hodi, the director of the Melanoma Center and of the Center for Immuno-Oncology; my neurosurgeon Dr. Ian Dunn at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston; and especially the outstanding radiation oncologist Dr. Ayal A. Aizer.
Thank you also to my wonderful physical therapist Theresa Bell.
A special thank-you to my friend Dr. George E. Jaskiw for his review of this book as it developed. Thank you to a number of other physicians who helped with various sections of this book, including Drs. Bradford C. Dickerson, Erica Swegler, Jason Karlawish, Éric Fombonne, and Wendell Pahls. We also appreciate the help of Susan L.-J. Dickinson, executive director of the Association for Frontotemporal Degeneration, and Warren Fried of the Dyspraxia Foundation USA.
I am also very thankful to my colleagues at the Division of Intramural Research Programs of the National Institute of Mental Health for believing in me and my recovery, and to my coworkers and friends at the Human Brain Collection Core, NIMH. Thank you especially to Dr. Susan Amara, the NIMH scientific director, and Dr. Maryland Pao, the NIMH clinical director, as well as to Gwendolyn Shinko, the NIMH administrative director.
My co-author and I want to thank Leora Herrmann for her encouragement, and a very special thank you to
