Facing Death, Embracing Life

The day before Thanksgiving, the doctors told Brent J. Foster '97 that the cancer he has been fighting for eight years had returned in an inoperable form. He has "several weeks to a few months" to live, the physicians say.

Death is not often discussed around campus, and Foster has felt the separation. He leaves for home on Wednesday, and while he wants to finish out the semester in January, it's not certain whether he'll be back.

"I feel here at Harvard that I'm a mortal in the land of the immortals," he says.

Foster hasn't reacted in the expected ways. He hasn't started travelling, he hasn't returned home to lows and he hasn't tried to pack a full life's worth of living into a few weeks. Instead, Foster, a history concentrator, is still attending classes and writing papers.

"He's so upbeat and joyful, it's easy to miss the fact that he's in pain," says friend Elizabeth S. Dinonno '97.

But Foster says he is not in denial. He understands that he is likely to die and talks about it calmly.

"I feel this unnatural peace," he says. "And when you look at it from a worldly standpoint, it really isn't the way I should be acting."

"I mean, here I am, a Harvard student in the prime of my life. I've enjoyed so much success over my life and I have such a bright future ahead of me and now it's being cut short. There's so much I haven't experienced."

Foster then cites Shadowlands, the story of author C.S. Lewis' marriage to a dying Joy Davidmen, and says, "All the good things in this life are just a shadow of the real world with God."

Foster is deeply religious and is a member of Harvard-Radcliffe Christian Fellowhip, where he leads a first-years' Bible study and is on the fellowship drama team. Because of his faith, he says he isn't scared of death itself.

"Cancer is a horrible way to die," he says. "It can be slow and painful. I really fear that, but I don't really fear dying because this is only the beginning. Real life begins with God."

His friends appreciate his opti- mism.

"With the prospect of dying he isn't hopeless," says R. Michael Lopez '97. "He's not just defeatist. He knows he already has what he needs. He has something to look forward to."

Foster's fight with cancer began with a routine eighth-grade football physical. It revealed an abnormality in his left ankle, which led to a trip to the Mayo Clinic, a bone cancer diagnosis and the sudden loss of his left leg.

"They told me [about the cancer] one day, sent me off to lunch to think about it, and then amputated the next day," he says.

His prosthetic leg is not very obvious. Dinonno recalls that during a Christian fellowship retreat. Foster was leading a follow-the-leader game, and all but one player had been eliminated.

Foster challenged the player, saying, "I bet you can't put one leg over your head and hop across the room." The player failed, and Foster took off his leg, held it over his head, and grinning, hopped.

"Like half the room was screaming," Dinonno says. "We didn't know!"

Despite his prosthetic leg, Foster played baseball, basketball and tennis in high school. He was also president of the student body, and he says he was often asked to give inspirational speeches as "the kid who played basketball with an artificial leg."

"I would have said stuff like 'if you can dream it, you can do it,'" he says, his voice trailing off. "I guess now I realize that your dreams don't always come true."

The cancer returned in his lungs during junior year, and again during senior year. Operations on the cancers became less and less successful.

He started on chemotherapy and radiation treatments, again at the Mayo Clinic, and deferred his admission to Harvard for a year.

Numerous Operations

The cancer returned again during spring reading period of his first year at Harvard. He had three more chest operations last summer, and decided to forego additional chemotherapy to return to Harvard for his sophomore year.

His check-up this November found inoperable tumors in the femur of his good leg, in his ribs, in his lungs and around his heart.

In the last eight years, Foster has had 11 surgical operations, a year of chemotherapy and a month of radiation.

"I was kind of thankful when modern medicine couldn't do anything this time," he says. "I don't want any more cold, sterile hospitals, or needles or impersonal nurses and technicians. It's just so nice that I don't have to have that ever again."

While Foster is relatively calm about his disease, he is emphatic about the positive changes in his life since the bad news.

"Actually, a lot of good has come out of this because it has forced me out of the rut I was in," he says. "It's forced me to ask what I'm living for and what the meaning of all this is."

"The only thing meaningful in life is to love God and love other people."

Foster told his story to a Christian Fellowship large-group meeting at the end of September, and has been talking a lot with friends.

"I guess I hope when people at Harvard look at me they'll kind of wake up from their routines and realize how short their time is and will explore how to really live," he says. "All you guys will be coming along after me very shortly."

Foster says he has been "exploring how to really live" since Thanksgiving by putting friends and faith before papers and problem sets.

"These last few weeks have certainly been among the most fun of my life," he says. "Imagine how much fun college could be if studying wasn't your main objective, if you just did the work you enjoyed, and spent the rest of the time with people you love."

His friends, too, have been trying to put relationships first.

"A lot of us are trying to spend a lot of time with him," Dinonno says. "You can't really say you're too busy."

While he says he is enjoying life, Foster says he is also frustrated by his status as a "mortal in the land of the immortals at Harvard."

"It's really hard if someone knows what is happening to me and it doesn't affect them at all--when the most important thing in their life is still beating the mean on the next test," he says

"With the prospect of dying he isn't hopeless," says R. Michael Lopez '97. "He's not just defeatist. He knows he already has what he needs. He has something to look forward to."

Foster's fight with cancer began with a routine eighth-grade football physical. It revealed an abnormality in his left ankle, which led to a trip to the Mayo Clinic, a bone cancer diagnosis and the sudden loss of his left leg.

"They told me [about the cancer] one day, sent me off to lunch to think about it, and then amputated the next day," he says.

His prosthetic leg is not very obvious. Dinonno recalls that during a Christian fellowship retreat. Foster was leading a follow-the-leader game, and all but one player had been eliminated.

Foster challenged the player, saying, "I bet you can't put one leg over your head and hop across the room." The player failed, and Foster took off his leg, held it over his head, and grinning, hopped.

"Like half the room was screaming," Dinonno says. "We didn't know!"

Despite his prosthetic leg, Foster played baseball, basketball and tennis in high school. He was also president of the student body, and he says he was often asked to give inspirational speeches as "the kid who played basketball with an artificial leg."

"I would have said stuff like 'if you can dream it, you can do it,'" he says, his voice trailing off. "I guess now I realize that your dreams don't always come true."

The cancer returned in his lungs during junior year, and again during senior year. Operations on the cancers became less and less successful.

He started on chemotherapy and radiation treatments, again at the Mayo Clinic, and deferred his admission to Harvard for a year.

Numerous Operations

The cancer returned again during spring reading period of his first year at Harvard. He had three more chest operations last summer, and decided to forego additional chemotherapy to return to Harvard for his sophomore year.

His check-up this November found inoperable tumors in the femur of his good leg, in his ribs, in his lungs and around his heart.

In the last eight years, Foster has had 11 surgical operations, a year of chemotherapy and a month of radiation.

"I was kind of thankful when modern medicine couldn't do anything this time," he says. "I don't want any more cold, sterile hospitals, or needles or impersonal nurses and technicians. It's just so nice that I don't have to have that ever again."

While Foster is relatively calm about his disease, he is emphatic about the positive changes in his life since the bad news.

"Actually, a lot of good has come out of this because it has forced me out of the rut I was in," he says. "It's forced me to ask what I'm living for and what the meaning of all this is."

"The only thing meaningful in life is to love God and love other people."

Foster told his story to a Christian Fellowship large-group meeting at the end of September, and has been talking a lot with friends.

"I guess I hope when people at Harvard look at me they'll kind of wake up from their routines and realize how short their time is and will explore how to really live," he says. "All you guys will be coming along after me very shortly."

Foster says he has been "exploring how to really live" since Thanksgiving by putting friends and faith before papers and problem sets.

"These last few weeks have certainly been among the most fun of my life," he says. "Imagine how much fun college could be if studying wasn't your main objective, if you just did the work you enjoyed, and spent the rest of the time with people you love."

His friends, too, have been trying to put relationships first.

"A lot of us are trying to spend a lot of time with him," Dinonno says. "You can't really say you're too busy."

While he says he is enjoying life, Foster says he is also frustrated by his status as a "mortal in the land of the immortals at Harvard."

"It's really hard if someone knows what is happening to me and it doesn't affect them at all--when the most important thing in their life is still beating the mean on the next test," he says