My mom endured chemo hell for the future

GUEST COLUMN | KEVIN TECHAU

In 1977, when my mother was diagnosed with cancer it shattered our world. She was 41. This was the 1970s, when treatment for cancer was not what it is today. It was crude. Brutal. Chemotherapy was a scorched-earth tactic — non-specific and agonizing.

I watched my mother endure 10 months of what I can only describe as hell. She lost her hair, her appetite, her ability to move without pain. Her body was ravaged not just by cancer but also by the only weapon doctors had to fight it. Some days she couldn’t lift her head. The look in her eyes is a look you never forget — because in those eyes, you see the full cost of the fight, and the terrifying grace it takes to keep fighting anyway.

And yet — through all of that — she found it in herself to give something extraordinary.

Before she passed, my mother agreed to donate her medical records and tissue samples to the National Cancer Institute. She knew the science wouldn’t save her. She didn’t do it for herself. She did it for the next generation — for the hope that someone, someday, wouldn’t have to suffer like she did.

That kind of quiet, profound sacrifice laid the foundation for decades of breakthroughs. Because of patients like my mom — and because of steady, bipartisan investment — we’ve seen incredible advances in cancer research like immunotherapies and targeted genetic therapies. Patients are surviving cancers that used to be death sentences.

But now, that progress is in real danger. Congresswoman Ashley Hinson recently voted for what is being called the “Big Beautiful Bill.” But behind the name are some ugly truths. Among its many sweeping cuts is a devastating 43 percent reduction in funding for the National Cancer Institute, more than $3 billion. This is not belt-tightening. This is gutting the engine of cancer research in this country.

And the consequences of those anticipated cuts are already here.

A 43-year-old mother fighting stage 4 colorectal cancer lost critical time when she was delayed from joining a potentially lifesaving NIH trial because of staffing shortages. Thousands of research projects in university hospitals across the county have been canceled due to funding shortfalls, including those focused on cancer, ALS, and HIV. The Holden Comprehensive Cancer Center at the University of Iowa has been working to extend specialized cancer care to rural hospitals but that initiative is now in jeopardy and may be scaled back or canceled.

These aren’t statistics. These are real patients with names, families, and dreams, being denied the hope that science was just beginning to deliver.

What makes this even more infuriating is that Iowa — Hinson’s home state — has the second-highest cancer rate in the nation as well as the country’s second-fastest increasing cancer rate. If there were ever a time for Iowa’s representatives to double down on research and prevention, it’s now.

Let’s be clear: voting for this bill dishonors the sacrifices of people like my mom, who endured unimaginable suffering so that others could have a fighting chance. Hinson turned her back on every researcher dedicating their life to eradicating this disease, and showed utter disregard for the patients in Iowa and across the country who still face that terrifying diagnosis every day.

I couldn’t save my mother. I couldn’t stop the agony she went through. But I’ve carried the belief that her suffering mattered — that her choice to participate in research helped lead to something better. That belief has kept me going.

If Congresswoman Hinson truly wants to serve the people of Iowa, she should look into the eyes of the families still fighting this battle and explain why she voted to dismantle the very infrastructure that could one day save their lives. She should explain to the next mother, sitting in a treatment chair, why her clinical trial was canceled.

My mother gave everything she had to help the future. We owe it to her — and to every family who’s walked that same path — not to turn our backs on science and surrender to ignorance. Cancer doesn’t care about party lines. And neither should we. Halting progress now is a failure of leadership that will cost lives.

Kevin Techau is a U.S. Air Force veteran, former commissioner of the Iowa Department of Public Safety, and former U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of Iowa. He is a Democratic candidate for Iowa’s 2nd Congressional District.