When my daughter Larissa was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer (MBC), her world could have come to an end. She was thirty years old. She had just launched a nonprofit, Community Navigators . It was located in Connecticut, and its purpose was to provide services and support to individuals with disabilities who were defining – and working to achieve – their own futures. She had recently bought a house and gotten engaged. She and Martin were planning a wedding. She was thinking about starting a family soon. And then in the blink of an eye everything changed. The lump she found in her breast proved to be cancerous. Before she could even begin treatment, the cancer had spread to her liver and her bones. Given the dire prognosis, I imagine that most people would crawl into a hole, disappear from view, and take what comfort they could from their remaining days. That was not Larissa’s style. She decided to get married immediately, and six days later she and
An occasional column focusing on federal, state, and local health policy