I cried until I choked — for her sacrifice, for the crushing weight of a mother’s true love.

While my biological family wouldn’t spare a dime of their luxury to save me, this woman gave up everything she owned to buy me a tomorrow.

The treatment was brutal. We moved into a cramped, noisy two-bedroom that smelled of stale cigarettes and damp plaster.

Laura worked doubles to make rent while I lay in agony, fighting the war inside my cells.

But the drug worked. By my eighteenth birthday, I was cancer-free.

I promised myself two things. First, I would become a doctor — the best oncologist in the state — and save lives the way Dr. Lawson and Laura had saved mine.