My friend and brain tumor doppelganger, Matthew Zachary, recently shared appreciations of each other. I've pasted story Matthew shared below, followed by my response. +++++++++++ WRITE ABOUT THE PERSON WHO MADE YOU FEEL LESS ALONE For seven years after my brain cancer diagnosis, I thought I was the only college student with cancer. Let alone brain cancer. I literally believed I was alone. Then Craig Lustig found me. Craig was a fellow SUNY Binghamton alum. A germ cell brain tumor survivor diagnosed in his 20s. He had an MPA in Public Policy from Columbia and served as Executive Director of the Children's Cause for Cancer Advocacy (now today known as the Children's Cancer Cause). He was also on the Board of the National Coalition for Cancer Survivorship (now today known as Cancer Nation) When we met, he asked me if I wanted to be a cancer advocate. "The fuck is a cancer advocate?" I replied. He then pulled back the curtain and revealed a thriving community of young adult survivors just like me. People in their teens, 20s, and 30s who it would have been nice to know when I was given six months to live, only to survive and be left impotent, infertile, and hairless with PTSD. Between 2003 and 2006, Craig introduced me to the constitutional framers of the young adult cancer movement: Ellen Stovall. Dr. Susan Weiner. Selma Schimmel. Dr. Julia Rowland. Doug Ulman. Heidi Adams. Tamika Felder. Dr. Archie Bleyer. Dr. Brandon Hayes Lattin. Dr. Bradley Zebrack. Dr. Leonard Sender. And so many more. If the young adult cancer movement had founding fathers and mothers, it was this "small group of thoughtful, committed citizens" who laid the foundation that is now changing the world. The very first origins of what would become Stupid Cancer began at the SoHo Hotel in Manhattan with Craig and his colleague Stacia Strouss (formerly Grosso) in the Spring of 2003. He is my hero. I cannot thank him enough for changing my life. This is my friend Craig Lustig. Welcome to 2026: The Year of the Patient where the sick shall inherit the ballot. If this hits home, drop your story in the comments or tag a fellow survivor, caregiver, or human who helped you feel less alone. What did their support mean to you? ++++++++++ Matthew, Thank you for your kind words. Right back at ya in gratitude for having your friendship and being a comrade in the often very slow and very incremental pace of working to impact the lives of our fellow cancer patients for the better. It's been a lot of years, working outside and inside the paternalistic systems that wants to pat us on the hand and ignore what we have to say. Getting the people who provide the cancer care, pay for the care, find new therapies and make the policy to understand that patients have a few things to say, some actual wisdom to improve all of this, and will not go away quietly, has been your work, and my work and the work of countless other advocates. When you and I first met, something I couldn't quite articulate then, but has become part of my personal advocate job description is that I have an obligation to fill the room with more advocates, make our voice louder, increase the level of chutzpah. So, there were some ulterior motives in whatever guidance I gave you to make connections, bring your voice (and your chutzpah) to the party. Thank you for your friendship, for years of service to so many patients.