"Physically I feel good, but mentally, I’m like, what is my purpose?"
“My doctor left me a voicemail saying, “I’m looking at your MRI and something is different. I’m going to send you to another doctor I know, and he’ll help you.” I was driving, so I Googled the doctor’s name at a red light. It said oncologist. I didn’t even know what that was at the time. I thought, there’s no way. I’m an athlete. I take care of myself. Ultimately we found out it was cancer…the rarest kind. A bone cancer called osteosarcoma. It started in my femur and spread to my lungs. So I was diagnosed at stage four. In two years, I went from not knowing what an oncologist was to now having three of them working my case all the time.
There aren’t many treatment options for rare cancers like mine. I did chemo and had surgery on my leg, because that’s the only way osteosarcoma can be cured…by surgically removing it. But they can’t do surgery on my lungs. There are too many nodules. So that's why I've been doing clinical trials. I had run out of options, so it was a no brainer. The first trial stopped working for me after four months, so I got a second opinion and joined a different one. It’s Phase I. I am the first group of humans to test this drug, which I think can be viewed in two ways: like wow, that's really scary, or more so in my opinion, wow, that's really hopeful. Because this could be it. This could be the drug that keeps my cancer stable forever. So far I've tolerated it really well and the initial results have been overwhelmingly good! And the clinical trial team has been really great. In my experience, they’re looking out for my best interest. They don't want to just push their research. They're always putting my health ahead of the overall research.
Physically I feel good, but mentally, I’m like, what is my purpose? I was a teacher for four years, but I can't work anymore. I can travel, but I can't plan my travel in advance. I can’t run or jump. And I can't have kids. I'm 29, so everybody in my life is having babies, buying houses. It’s lonely, for sure. I want to contribute to conversations, but it’s always about kids and work. It’s the first thing Americans talk about, right? “What do you do? Do you like your job?” I have nothing to say about those things anymore. That’s why I am so open about my cancer. Because that’s what I can contribute.
I’m trying to find new things that can bring me joy and give me purpose. I’m married to my high school sweetheart, and we have a big fur baby named Champ. We started taking classes together so that he can become a therapy dog. The two of us can visit hospitals together. Love on people. Yesterday was his first day of school. He was really great.
Sometimes you need adversity to gain perspective. My therapist helps me remember that during these different seasons of my life, my purpose can change. Right now, my purpose is to be healthy and to get better and to keep fighting. And sometimes my purpose is to just be, and appreciate the time I have at home. I don’t take any days for granted. Every day is precious."
You can learn more about Sierra and follow her journey on her blog here!
“My doctor left me a voicemail saying, “I’m looking at your MRI and something is different. I’m going to send you to another doctor I know, and he’ll help you.” I was driving, so I Googled the doctor’s name at a red light. It said oncologist. I didn’t even know what that was at the time. I thought, there’s no way. I’m an athlete. I take care of myself. Ultimately we found out it was cancer…the rarest kind. A bone cancer called osteosarcoma. It started in my femur and spread to my lungs. So I was diagnosed at stage four. In two years, I went from not knowing what an oncologist was to now having three of them working my case all the time.
There aren’t many treatment options for rare cancers like mine. I did chemo and had surgery on my leg, because that’s the only way osteosarcoma can be cured…by surgically removing it. But they can’t do surgery on my lungs. There are too many nodules. So that's why I've been doing clinical trials. I had run out of options, so it was a no brainer. The first trial stopped working for me after four months, so I got a second opinion and joined a different one. It’s Phase I. I am the first group of humans to test this drug, which I think can be viewed in two ways: like wow, that's really scary, or more so in my opinion, wow, that's really hopeful. Because this could be it. This could be the drug that keeps my cancer stable forever. So far I've tolerated it really well and the initial results have been overwhelmingly good! And the clinical trial team has been really great. In my experience, they’re looking out for my best interest. They don't want to just push their research. They're always putting my health ahead of the overall research.
Physically I feel good, but mentally, I’m like, what is my purpose? I was a teacher for four years, but I can't work anymore. I can travel, but I can't plan my travel in advance. I can’t run or jump. And I can't have kids. I'm 29, so everybody in my life is having babies, buying houses. It’s lonely, for sure. I want to contribute to conversations, but it’s always about kids and work. It’s the first thing Americans talk about, right? “What do you do? Do you like your job?” I have nothing to say about those things anymore. That’s why I am so open about my cancer. Because that’s what I can contribute.
I’m trying to find new things that can bring me joy and give me purpose. I’m married to my high school sweetheart, and we have a big fur baby named Champ. We started taking classes together so that he can become a therapy dog. The two of us can visit hospitals together. Love on people. Yesterday was his first day of school. He was really great.
Sometimes you need adversity to gain perspective. My therapist helps me remember that during these different seasons of my life, my purpose can change. Right now, my purpose is to be healthy and to get better and to keep fighting. And sometimes my purpose is to just be, and appreciate the time I have at home. I don’t take any days for granted. Every day is precious."
You can learn more about Sierra and follow her journey on her blog here!
“My doctor left me a voicemail saying, “I’m looking at your MRI and something is different. I’m going to send you to another doctor I know, and he’ll help you.” I was driving, so I Googled the doctor’s name at a red light. It said oncologist. I didn’t even know what that was at the time. I thought, there’s no way. I’m an athlete. I take care of myself. Ultimately we found out it was cancer…the rarest kind. A bone cancer called osteosarcoma. It started in my femur and spread to my lungs. So I was diagnosed at stage four. In two years, I went from not knowing what an oncologist was to now having three of them working my case all the time.
There aren’t many treatment options for rare cancers like mine. I did chemo and had surgery on my leg, because that’s the only way osteosarcoma can be cured…by surgically removing it. But they can’t do surgery on my lungs. There are too many nodules. So that's why I've been doing clinical trials. I had run out of options, so it was a no brainer. The first trial stopped working for me after four months, so I got a second opinion and joined a different one. It’s Phase I. I am the first group of humans to test this drug, which I think can be viewed in two ways: like wow, that's really scary, or more so in my opinion, wow, that's really hopeful. Because this could be it. This could be the drug that keeps my cancer stable forever. So far I've tolerated it really well and the initial results have been overwhelmingly good! And the clinical trial team has been really great. In my experience, they’re looking out for my best interest. They don't want to just push their research. They're always putting my health ahead of the overall research.
Physically I feel good, but mentally, I’m like, what is my purpose? I was a teacher for four years, but I can't work anymore. I can travel, but I can't plan my travel in advance. I can’t run or jump. And I can't have kids. I'm 29, so everybody in my life is having babies, buying houses. It’s lonely, for sure. I want to contribute to conversations, but it’s always about kids and work. It’s the first thing Americans talk about, right? “What do you do? Do you like your job?” I have nothing to say about those things anymore. That’s why I am so open about my cancer. Because that’s what I can contribute.
I’m trying to find new things that can bring me joy and give me purpose. I’m married to my high school sweetheart, and we have a big fur baby named Champ. We started taking classes together so that he can become a therapy dog. The two of us can visit hospitals together. Love on people. Yesterday was his first day of school. He was really great.
Sometimes you need adversity to gain perspective. My therapist helps me remember that during these different seasons of my life, my purpose can change. Right now, my purpose is to be healthy and to get better and to keep fighting. And sometimes my purpose is to just be, and appreciate the time I have at home. I don’t take any days for granted. Every day is precious."
You can learn more about Sierra and follow her journey on her blog here!
“My doctor left me a voicemail saying, “I’m looking at your MRI and something is different. I’m going to send you to another doctor I know, and he’ll help you.” I was driving, so I Googled the doctor’s name at a red light. It said oncologist. I didn’t even know what that was at the time. I thought, there’s no way. I’m an athlete. I take care of myself. Ultimately we found out it was cancer…the rarest kind. A bone cancer called osteosarcoma. It started in my femur and spread to my lungs. So I was diagnosed at stage four. In two years, I went from not knowing what an oncologist was to now having three of them working my case all the time.
There aren’t many treatment options for rare cancers like mine. I did chemo and had surgery on my leg, because that’s the only way osteosarcoma can be cured…by surgically removing it. But they can’t do surgery on my lungs. There are too many nodules. So that's why I've been doing clinical trials. I had run out of options, so it was a no brainer. The first trial stopped working for me after four months, so I got a second opinion and joined a different one. It’s Phase I. I am the first group of humans to test this drug, which I think can be viewed in two ways: like wow, that's really scary, or more so in my opinion, wow, that's really hopeful. Because this could be it. This could be the drug that keeps my cancer stable forever. So far I've tolerated it really well and the initial results have been overwhelmingly good! And the clinical trial team has been really great. In my experience, they’re looking out for my best interest. They don't want to just push their research. They're always putting my health ahead of the overall research.
Physically I feel good, but mentally, I’m like, what is my purpose? I was a teacher for four years, but I can't work anymore. I can travel, but I can't plan my travel in advance. I can’t run or jump. And I can't have kids. I'm 29, so everybody in my life is having babies, buying houses. It’s lonely, for sure. I want to contribute to conversations, but it’s always about kids and work. It’s the first thing Americans talk about, right? “What do you do? Do you like your job?” I have nothing to say about those things anymore. That’s why I am so open about my cancer. Because that’s what I can contribute.
I’m trying to find new things that can bring me joy and give me purpose. I’m married to my high school sweetheart, and we have a big fur baby named Champ. We started taking classes together so that he can become a therapy dog. The two of us can visit hospitals together. Love on people. Yesterday was his first day of school. He was really great.
Sometimes you need adversity to gain perspective. My therapist helps me remember that during these different seasons of my life, my purpose can change. Right now, my purpose is to be healthy and to get better and to keep fighting. And sometimes my purpose is to just be, and appreciate the time I have at home. I don’t take any days for granted. Every day is precious."
You can learn more about Sierra and follow her journey on her blog here!
“I have been on the other side of this before. Where you don’t know what to say, or if you should say anything at all. It can feel awkward. But now I realize you just have to show up. Just being there makes all the difference. Your words might not be perfect, but that doesn't matter. It’s the little things. Like gosh, it is really nice to get a card in the mail, especially when you’re not feeling well.
Representation Matters
Increasing diversity in clinical trials builds trust, promotes health equity, and leads to more effective treatments and better outcomes (NEJM). But there is much work to be done - and barriers to break - to improve awareness and access for all people.
Do you know someone who is a member of a marginalized community who has participated in a clinical trial? If so, we’d love to meet them and share their story. We hope to represent the many faces of clinical trials through this project, and inspire others by shining a light on their experience.
They can contact us here.
