It always comes back to this: the human connection

The last few days have been a whirlwind of meetings, conversations, receptions and manning a booth at the American Society of Clinical Oncology 2024 annual meeting.

I had the honor of representing Man Up to Cancer, along with my brothers-in-arms Trevor Maxwell, Joe Bullock and Don Helgeson.

It was Man Up to Cancer’s coming out party in the oncology world since we became a non-profit organization seven months ago.

ASCO brought 44,000 people to Chicago’s McCormick Place, the largest convention center in the United States.

The place has 2.6 million square feet of event space.

The exhibit hall where our booth was located is 840,000 square feet. We were in the patient advocacy area.

A speck by comparison to some of the companies on exhibit there.

And yet…

The buzz about us was palpable. People everywhere were taking about our organization.

The dudes wearing blue jeans and T-shirts.

Sporting tattoos.

Regular guys leading a cancer support organization for men facing cancer.

The organization Trevor conceived and Joe helped launch four years ago has grown to serve nearly 3,000 men in 50 chapters across North America, the UK, Northern Europe and Australia.

I was and continue to be honored to have been asked to take a leadership role in this movement.

No one else is doing what we’re doing.

Providing social, mental and emotional support to men is the secret sauce of cancer advocacy.

That’s why we got so much attention.

No one else is reaching men like we are.

It helps that Trevor and Joe are rock stars in the world of cancer advocacy, known for their tenaciousness, service to others, and commitment to the mission.

We had dozens meetings with current and potential sponsors, talked about collaborations with other advocacy groups, and shared our story with countless people who stopped by to learn more about us.

It was an amazing experience. It will take months to process, reach out to connect, and see the fruit of our labors over the last four days. No doubt the harvest will be bountiful and we will reach even more men facing cancer, whether they are patients, survivors or caregivers.

No matter what comes of our ASCO experience, one encounter made all of this worth it.

Our friend Paula at Fight Colorectal Cancer introduced us to a guy whose best friend has stage-IV colorectal cancer. Metastases. Probably incurable.

And mentally spiraling downward.

The guy wants to support his friend but he doesn’t have cancer so he doesn’t know what to do.

We listened and let the guy know we heard him, and that there are a number of guys, Trevor included, who have been or are in his friend’s shoes.

We shared our cancer stories.

We offered all of our programs: a chemo backpack, connection to a chapter, a spot at our annual retreat.

Trevor offered to talk to the guy’s friend.

Joe offered to deliver a backpack because the friend lives in Raleigh, NC.

If the friend wants any of that, of course.

This isn’t a high-pressure organization. Getting guys to talk about the hard stuff is not easy, but once that door is open, it gets better.

Men know they are not alone.

They have support.

A safe place to ask questions, talk about the challenges. Not just of cancer but of life in general.

Side effects. Family issues. Mental health. All of it.

And, should the time come, we are there to help walk a brother home.

This is what we do.

Some days are hard. As I write this, we’ve just learned that one of our guys passed away this afternoon. He leaves behind a wife and a young son.

We toasted our brother at what we call a “Wolfpack Meetup” tonight. Several guys from the Chicago area and one not from Chicago, met us for dinner at Portillo’s, a famous hot dogs and Italian beef joint.

Meeting the guys was the icing on an already well-frosted cake.

Hugs, and words of love and affirmation abounded.

Men really aren’t afraid to share their emotions when they know they’re in a safe place.

Man Up to Cancer has made that possible.

On the days we lose a brother, we all recognize that this can be hard stuff.

A wolf has died.

But we’ve been called to do this work.

To lift up men who may not have any other means of emotional or mental support.

Men who don’t know that what they need are other men walking the same journey.

I’ve seen it in action since we got to town last Thursday.

I can’t think of a better way to spend my time.

Before he left our conversation yesterday, I handed the guy my card.

”I know what it’s like to be the best friend of a guy with stage-IV colorectal cancer,” I said. “If you need someone to talk to, know that you have support too.”

Maybe he will call.

Maybe his friend will reach out.

This is what we do.