Cure

Cure

By Heather Ann Martinez

The backstage manager has just given me the five minute warning and has pointed to where I am to stand behind the podium when I give my speech. He has assured me that the stadium is beyond capacity and millions will be watching from home. I didn’t expect all of this attention. I thought the CEO of the company was going to handle all of the public speaking. I just want to keep working in the laboratory. I never thought I would have to talk to the public directly. No one even knows who I am. They don’t know where I came from and I was told not to start my speech with a corny joke no one cares to hear. They just want to see the person who discovered the cure. They want to know why it took so long although I have been warned not to talk about government red tape and the countless meetings that brought us to this day.

For the most part, the public wants to know that they will have more time with a loved one, that the time they have been given will be healthy. As most of them have witnessed, previous treatment options were actually worse than the disease. No one was really looking for a good way to target a series of cells. Most of the scientists I worked with were looking for a way to destroy everything in the disease’s path leaving the patient weak and exhausted. I had one goal in mind. I wanted to find the cure for all cancers. I knew there had to be some common element that triggered a mutation of cells, and I knew there had to be a way to reverse it by studying genetic families that never had cancer. What made cancer tick for some as young as a year old and what triggered it for the elderly who did not have any previous health issues?

It was not easy and it took many hours in the laboratory. It took losing several family members and friends to an early grave. This battle was not without its casualties. It took many hours of testing and proving and retaining lawyers. It took many signatures and patents and more paperwork than I would care to recall. Now, I am about to tell the millions watching that they can go to bed this evening knowing that cancer will not affect their children or grandchildren. Not only has this cure ruled out that infirmity, but it has shown great promise in curing other similar diseases. In removing much of the red tape for drug trials, other treatments have also had the opportunity to gain momentum in curing other diseases. The curtain has been pulled back. Someday soon, what has plagued humanity for generations will only be lines recorded in history. Future generations won’t even think about it. They might not even read about it because it is something they won’t need to be concerned about repeating. This is a once and for all cure. It is the end of an era and the beginning of so many more. This is something we have all been waiting and fighting for.

My foot can’t stop tapping. I have never been this nervous. I have never talked to this many people at one time. I have never had to tell so many people their lives are about to change forever. The cure may not save everyone who has advanced cancers or have not responded well to other treatments. I really need to make certain I am clear about this really being for future generations. I do not know if the cure will work on everyone right now. I just know no one going forward will have to face a death sentence from it. The cure will easily reverse a new diagnosis. The cure will change the way people think, the way they live their lives.

What I am giving everyone listening to this speech tonight is a lot more than hope. Over the past year, I have seen cancer patients leave their hospital beds without any sign of tumor or disease. It is as if we will all be waking up from a nightmare. Unfortunately, I cannot bring anyone back from the dead with this cure. I can however stop people from accepting death’s invitation. The stage manager has given me another warning. Two minutes. Thirty seconds. I am fumbling through my notes. My lawyers gave me so many reminders about what not to say. I am not to answer any questions they may spontaneously ask. I am not going to talk about the first trial or how long it took to get to these last two minutes. I am to remind the people that we got here and a new part of our journey is in front of us. We will be able to close the door, lock it and throw out the key. If someone from the future were to ask what it was like living in this moment, I would tell them it was well worth crossing the finish line. I may have crawled on my hands and knees to get here and put my blood and tears into every sleepless night. I would sacrifice more if I needed to. Forty-five seconds. I am walking to the space marked for me just behind the curtain. I can see so many faces in spite of the bright lights. I can hear people screaming my name. I don’t want them knowing my name as much as I want them knowing that I am the person that is bringing them the news that will change their entire perspective on their lives. What so many people have worried about getting will not be. They will not have to worry or fear a cancer diagnosis. It will not be something they have to deal with. They will not mourn the losses of loved one going forward. They will experience a sense of peace they have not known. Here is to turning the page for the next generation.