Events

27 Days By Gina Warren

27 days.  Less than one month.  That is how long John T. Warren’s battle with cancer lasted.  In 27 days time esophageal cancer stole from this world a marvelous and loyal husband, father, son, brother, uncle, cousin, and friend.  It stole a brilliant scholar, teacher, author, mentor, and human rights advocate.  It stole from me a form of love and laughter that I will never again know, and left me in return wondering how any of this came to pass.  How is it possible that a healthy, 36 year old man can be diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer when the only symptom he ever experienced was acid reflux?  And why didn’t I force him to have an endoscopy seven years ago when our family physician first recommended it?  Because we mistakenly thought that a 36 year old man who ran six miles per day, six days a week was healthy, and that his health and the miracles of modern medicine could see him through cancer or any other physical ailment that came his way.  But John never got the chance to have any treatment.  He died two days prior to his scheduled chemotherapy.  He left me, our 3 year old and five year old sons, and the rest of the world wondering what had happened and wishing we could only have had more time with him.

Melissa’s Story

Back in 2007, the first diagnosis came.  My father, Paul Cohen, who had been healthy but suffering from heartburn, was told that he had Esophageal Cancer.  Overwhelming!  There was little information out there but we did the research that we could and started treatments.  Then in 2008, my father-in-law, Ira Cohen, was also diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer.  Devastating!  The shock was that neither one had any idea that they were sick.   Esophageal Cancer is a silent killer and they were both victims.  There is very little information available and by the time it is diagnosed, it is usually too late.  After two very long and brave battles, we lost my father in July 2009 and my father-in-law in December 2010.

My dad was my hero.  He attacked this disease with great courage and determination from the onset.  He fought hard and was never deterred by the setbacks until the very end and even then I do not believe he was ready to give up.  My father’s only hope during this time was that he would live long enough to see my son turn 4.  He didn’t make it.  Ryan said “Pa” for the first time at my father’s side of the bed the day of the funeral.

As for Ira, he also fought with a passion and got great joy out of the time he got to spend with my son.  To this day, Ryan will still talk about him and try to understand why he is not coming back.