On March 10, 2013, it was all over. “The next morning when I got up, my mouth tasted like a dumpster. I didn’t want to know anything about nicotine for the rest of my life, honest to God.”

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2015, my boyfriend Michael and I were still in the beginning stages of our relationship.

It was 2005, and 47-year-old Rick Crowley had a lump growing in his neck. The first biopsy indicated that it was benign, but his doctors in Olean, New York, were not convinced. A good thing, too: The second biopsy found cancer.

I tried to ignore the pain and the feeling of being “off.” But one day, after struggling through a few minutes of yet another bad run, I stopped in mid-stride, pulled out my phone, and called my doctor.

Once a month, Kathy Halliday of Snyder, N.Y. comes to Roswell Park Comprehensive Cancer Center laden with armfuls of donations, items she made with her own two hands, to be given to patients in need of warmth or spiritual comfort.

Not all patients respond to all types of immunotherapies. So how can doctors identify which treatments have the best chance of working in a specific patient? How can they quickly zero in on the best options on a list of immunotherapies that grows longer every day?

As with anything in life, when you’re going through something difficult, it can seem as if your whole world is going to end. It’s hard to see a positive future. But looking back, you realize that you got through it and everything is fine.

Turning tragedy into kindness is no small feat, but one woman from Batavia does just that every year at Roswell Park and throughout her community.