Often cancer survivors are singularly described as ‘brave’, and though I do believe that in order to overcome cancer you must have bravery and be courageous, but I often reject that description for myself personally. I didn’t decide to have cancer; I didn’t put myself into harm’s way to help someone else. I don’t consider myself brave. Instead, I think of myself as grateful. My whole being is defined by gratitude.

My cancer journey – like all other’s – has various stages, I’ve been fortunate to have many stages – in that I have reached the stage that all patients pray and work so desperately to reach: survivorship. For me to be classified a “survivor” I had to advance through a range of stages: diagnosis, treatment, relapse, stem cell transplant, remission, and now survivorship.

I needed to unsheathe this self-inflicted veil I held over myself and let people know about my life-changing experience. Not just for myself, but also for those grieving

I knew when the opportunity to write a new chapter to my life became available, I would distance myself from “Mike Tirone, cancer boy.”

Part One: A journey of connection, identity, and what it means to keep becoming after cancer.

I’ve never been great at asking people for money. You’d assume that after 15 years of being involved in the Ulman Foundation that I’d be better at it, but it is never easy for me. So to raise this $15,000 for the Mt. Kilimanjaro trek has been a big hurdle for me.

Intentionally dodging the mai tais and poke bowls by the pool and positioning myself to get up to Mt. Haleakalā — sitting at 10,000 feet above sea level — I needed a training hike that was going to set the base for my endurance but also my ability to climb at higher altitude.