Passover this past weekend was extra special. A few hours before we were scheduled to begin our seder on Friday night, we learned that one of our cousins received the all-clear on her lymphoma, following six months of chemotherapy. There were big hugs all around when she and her family arrived for dinner.

A central theme of the seder is retelling the story of the Israelites’ Exodus from Egypt, as if you, personally, were escaping from slavery to freedom. The word in Hebrew for Egypt is Mitzrayim, which means “a narrow place.” So the metaphor had exceptional resonance at our table that evening, and again Saturday night, when we repeated the seder at our cousins’.

Then, on Sunday, I learned that the beloved husband of a childhood friend had died the day before of ALS. They were married only a few short years. The words of comfort I shared with her seemed so shallow compared to her loss.

Our bodies can betray us in so many ways.

There are never any guarantees that a treatment will work for a particular disease for any given individual. I am profoundly grateful that our cousin has responded so well to chemo and is on the path to full recovery from cancer.

My friend’s husband, however, had no such options. ALS has no cure, although research is progressing to identify the genetic underpinnings of the disease and treatments that may slow the deterioration of nerve cells.

According to the ALS Association, about 30,000 Americans may have the disease at any point in time. By contrast, figures from the American Cancer Society project more than 1.6 million Americans will be diagnosed with one of the four major forms of cancer this year—colon/rectal, lung, breast and prostate. And that’s not counting the myriad of other ways cancer can attack our bodies. No wonder a preponderance of research dollars go to finding a cure for “the emperor of all maladies.”

Scleroderma research for a cure faces similar hurdles as ALS research. With Congress deadlocked over basic federal spending issues, let alone medical research for rare diseases, the need to find other resources to support this important work has never been greater.

Where could it come from?

Here are some mind-blowing figures:

It’s not that we as a nation don’t have enough money to support medical research for rare diseases. It’s just a matter of priorities and the need to make a commitment, as a society, to be responsible for each other’s well being and not only for ourselves.

Imagine, for a moment, what it would be like to live in a country where we spent more on finding a cure for scleroderma or ALS or any number of horrible, painful, debilitating diseases than we do on all those half-eaten snacks that get tossed in the garbage.


Then please consider donating to the Scleroderma Research Foundation or the Scleroderma Foundation—or to the ALS Association.

Thanks for listening.

Photo Credit: a.s.ya via Compfight cc

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at

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