Eileen Hornor

Amos' Army

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When I was in high school, my niece was born with a hole in her heart. When she was just several weeks old, I went to see her after her open heart surgery. I was amazed to see her tiny body on the bed--a body that doctors opened up to get to a heart the size of a walnut. They opened up that heart and sewed closed the interior hole. A miracle of human wisdom and expertise.

About 10 years later, I was equally amazed that doctors at this same hospital told my mother, who had had a seizure caused by a glioblastoma, that there was little to nothing they could do to save her life. She would die of her brain cancer 14 months later at the age of 68. How could there not be a cure? How could they not know how to help her? 

The scourge of cancer is mystifying, agonizing, and terrifying. There must be a way to a cure.

We all know someone touched by cancer. Help me to help give them a fighting chance. Or do it to honor the memory of someone you love. I donate in honor of my mother Helen, who died in 1994.

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