On Tuesday, Oct. 7, 1997, most Penn State students were going about their normal ritualistic daily activities -- waking up, getting dressed and attending their classes. As all of this was going on in State College, I was sitting in an examining room at the Milton S. Hershey Medical Center about to hear the most devastating news one could imagine. It was in this 6 feet by 6 feet room that I was about to hear the words that were going to alter my life forever. On this day I was going to receive the results of a tissue biopsy that had been performed on me four days earlier. The words the doctor used were simplistic, but the weight that they carried was immeasurable. Almost sounding nonchalant, the doctor's words went something like this: "David, you have a malignant bone growth on your right femur. David, you have cancer." And this how that Tuesday of my senior year of college started.

This is the foundation for my thoughts. It wasn't until last Saturday, Feb. 13 that I finally realized what Thon has meant to me. This past Saturday I traveled to The City of Brotherly Love with friends from my Thon organization, Alpha Sigma Phi fraternity and Alpha Sigma Alpha sorority for a canning trip. As we all sat at the table playing cards, I realized that many of us had been on a previous canning trip to Delaware two years ago to the same date. We then proceeded to talk about the bad times and the many more good times that we all had on that trip. We talked about how much effort we put into raising money in order to give a child a chance to live another day.

It was in the middle of this conversation when I realized how much déją vu this past weekend had for myself.

One year ago -- Friday, Feb. 13, 1998 -- I had a major leg surgery. On this day I had a total hip replacement of my right hip due to the location of the malignant tumor. This surgery left me with extreme muscle atrophy and a prognosis that would not allow me to participate in the sports that I once thrived on again. No running, soccer, frisbee, basketball, skating and other similar sports for the rest of my life. It was because of this surgery that I will be reminded of my cancer every year, month, day and step that I ever take.

The night before my surgery, Feb. 12, my family ate at the same restaurant that our group ate at exactly one year later to the date. I found the irony of this past weekend as a good indication of how Thon has changed my life.

Feb. 13, 1997, I was raising money for children with cancer that I had never met. One year later to the date, I underwent a surgery due to my cancer that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. Feb. 13 1999, a year after conquering my cancer, I am back to raising money for the same children with cancer that I have now met and that I am now a part of. Thon has always been a part of my college experience and will always be an important part of my life.

Thon has saved my life. Not as much because of the financial assistance, but more because of the emotional support that it has provided for my family and myself. Thon has proved to be a motivational force and inspiration for the way in which I will lead my life.

Thon is a magical time. A time in which children and families fighting cancer can lower their guard and feel as if they are on top of the world and not in a bottomless pit named cancer.

I want to express my deep gratitude to my closest friends, the group on my Delaware and Philly canning trips, Alpha Sigma Phi and my athletic heroes. I would also like to say thank you to the medical staff at the Hershey Medical Center, and to the Penn State faculty. I wish the best of luck to Thon organizers and dancers. Most importantly I would like to give my regards to Chris Millard for providing the inspiration for the Four Diamonds Fund.

May a cure for cancer be found soon and may Thon always live on strong.