It was ten years ago to this very day, at the age of 28, that I heard the words from my doctor that I’ll never forget: “You have cancer.” It’s news that shakes you to your core, even if you were expecting the diagnosis. While I had a very treatable form of cancer — testicular cancer — I couldn’t help but face my mortality head-on. In the hours after my diagnosis, I remember thinking about all of the things I still wanted to do in my life: get married and have kids; pursue a career as a law professor; celebrate more Lakers and Dodgers championships; etc.

Fortunately, I am ten years in remission, and statistically, the chances of the cancer recurring are extremely low — less than one percent.  I look back at how many of the reasons for which I wanted to live have come to pass: I am blessed with a wonderful wife and two great daughters; I am incredibly fortunate to have a job that I love so much; the Lakers hung two more championship banners since then (and being at the game 7 win in 2010 against those wretched Boston Celtics was one of the more euphoric moments of my life (sorry Professor Rofes)); and as for the Dodgers, well, there’s still lots to live for. <grin>

I look back ten years later with incredible gratitude for all of the people who helped support me through my battle with cancer.  But I also look back a bit wistfully, as I have lost two mentors since that time, and I miss them both very much.  I have been meaning to write about both of them for the last two years, but to be honest, it has just been too painful.  Their passings were great losses for me and for so many others who knew them.