In the waiting room at Walter Reed’s Murtha Cancer Center, time doesn’t move the way it does outside. People sit with a quiet tension, balancing on a thin line between dread and hope. It feels like you’ve involuntarily joined a club, one where the only thing you share is waiting for your name to be called for chemo.
In this strange, heavy club, silence does most of the talking. But a connection was made that became one of the first roots of what would one day become KFG. That connection was Tom. We cracked a quick joke, shared a laugh, and just like that a foundational friendship was formed.
Tom’s road to that waiting room was nothing like he expected. While deployed in Iraq, what he thought was a routine medical issue escalated to a medevac to Germany, emergency surgery, and waking up to the words no one is ready for: “You Have Cancer.” That’s what eventually brought him to Walter Reed, and into that same waiting room where our paths crossed.
Despite everything he’d been through, Tom carried himself with the kind of steady resilience you only see in someone who’s spent years leading others. But what struck me even more was his honest talk about fear, hope, and the dark humor that only two military cancer patients from New Jersey would understand.
Tom was part of KFG long before it had a name. Back then, it was just two patients trying to make it through chemo, forming a bond in a place no one wants to be. Tom said it best: “I appreciate and deeply believe in the mission of KFG because I know what it’s like to fight this battle and with support from my coach, Rick, who helped turn the tide. I am eternally grateful for the help I’ve received.”
Rick understands that while medicine treats the body, coaching strengthens the spirit, and that kind of support can completely reshape the treatment trajectory. He saw firsthand what patients were up against: the fear, the isolation, the emotional toll that medicine alone couldn’t reach. His way of coaching wasn’t just guidance; it was lifeline-level support. And the impact it had on Tom, on me, and on others became the blueprint for what KFG would eventually stand for.
Tom knows, as I do, that no one heals alone. His journey still shapes the heart of KFG, and his trust in our mission fuels our commitment to stand with others facing their own battles. Together, we’re building a community where strength, support, and connection are always within reach.