Last weekend Sapana and I were joined by our friends and family to participate in MSK’s Cycle for Survival event on Long Island. For those unfamiliar with this event (unlikely if you are reading this because you know us and as such have had your social media blown up by our solicitation), MSK uses this as a tool to raise money for rare cancer research.

I certainly cannot say that colon cancer is rare but it is relatively rare to present in a strapping young lad such as me. Our team, Sachin’s Slayers, raised over $20,000. It honestly was not that difficult, as our family has been so well-loved throughout this journey. Also, we hang out with lots of rich people.

Leading up to the event I was asked by one of the coordinators to say a few words. I suppose mine is an interesting story? Sharing my feelings has been a mostly cathartic experience, and so I agreed. Having said that, being later told that I would give the address at the end of the event filled me with a nameless fear.

Have you ever felt that you were destined for something? Well I have. That does not imply being destined for something cool and awesome. But for something of note, worthy of remembrance. Granted, I had always hoped I would go down in the annals as some sort of doctor-turned-celebrity chef-turned-tycoon but those cards continue to elude me.

It sounds morbid, but perhaps cancer was my destiny. Not my unmaking, but ironically, a ticket to a ride that actually makes me something more, even better on some level. More than that though, I hope that this story of mine inspires others who have to endure similar circumstances to at least look upon it all with softer eyes; to know that there can be a big difference between having an illness and being sick.

But I digress. When I was in medical school, I had the honor of being the student speaker at graduation. I stood at a podium at Avery Fisher Hall in Lincoln Center and addressed hundreds of people. I spoke after former-President Bill Clinton. And yet, standing on a tiny stage in a sweat-filled cycling room at Equinox was considerably more terrifying.

Opening up on a blog post, an Instagram story, or even a phone call carries weight. But holding back tears and whimpering as you share your personal horror story to a sea of strangers is another thing entirely. And yet, it may go down as one of the most important moments of my life. The expression on Sapana’s face as I spoke was everything – love, sadness, but more noticeably, respect.

I know now that going forward, no matter what happens, I have earned the respect of those dearest to me. I hope that my young children eventually gain perspective on the character of their Dada through this path we took. I know I have.

~ Sachin