Three photos showing Kate Shin and her mother, Lynn, at different stages of their lives. Left: Lynn stands with young Kate in a blue dress. Center: Lynn smiles beside her husband on a couch. Right: Kate and Lynn sit close together at a dinner table, smiling warmly.
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"Clinical trials gave us time": A daughter’s tribute to her mother’s courage

Three photos showing Kate Shin and her mother, Lynn, at different stages of their lives. Left: Lynn stands with young Kate in a blue dress. Center: Lynn smiles beside her husband on a couch. Right: Kate and Lynn sit close together at a dinner table, smiling warmly.

When Kate Shin thinks about her mother, Lynn, she remembers her strength. A first-generation Korean American, Kate grew up watching her mother — who immigrated from Incheon, South Korea, to Baltimore in the early 1970s — navigate the challenges of a new country, an arranged marriage, and, ultimately, a devastating cancer diagnosis.

At just 37, Lynn was diagnosed with stage IIb rectal cancer. It was the late 1990s, and awareness of young-onset colorectal cancer cases was far less widespread than today. Under the care of Johns Hopkins’ Sidney Kimmel Comprehensive Cancer Center, Lynn underwent radiation, surgery, and chemotherapy. For nearly a decade afterward, she remained in remission, devoted to raising Kate and her younger brother.

Kate Shin and her mother, Lynn, smiling together at Kate’s graduation ceremony. Kate wears a black cap and gown with a red stole, and Lynn wears a light blue suit with a pearl necklace.

But nine years later, everything changed. Lynn began experiencing severe back and leg pain — symptoms that doctors initially attributed to osteoporosis. Eventually, a scan revealed the unthinkable: Lynn's cancer had returned and spread to her spine. It was now stage IV and terminal.

“She told my dad, ‘Something is really wrong,’” Kate recalls. “My dad drove her to Hopkins — because it was the best cancer center in our region — even though it was an hour away. That’s when they found it.”

Faced with limited treatment options, Lynn’s medical team introduced the possibility of clinical trials. For patients with advanced rectal cancer, trials can open the door to experimental therapies not otherwise available. Kate says the decision to enroll was both terrifying and hopeful.

“Clinical trials gave my mom more time,” she says. “She was able to see me graduate college, move to grad school, and share milestones we might not have had.”

Lynn endured years of chemotherapy, surgeries, and side effects like neuropathy. Yet she kept moving forward. She passed away in 2010 — four and a half years after her second diagnosis — leaving behind a legacy of courage and advocacy that still drives her daughter today.

Now 40, Kate continues to honor her mother by spreading awareness about screening. Because of her family history, she began colonoscopies at 28 and has had four so far. 

“Screening saves lives,” she says. “If my mom’s cancer had been found even earlier, things might have been different.”

Through her story, Kate hopes others will understand that access to care, to information, and to clinical trials can make all the difference. 

“I’m so grateful,” she says. “Clinical trials didn’t cure her cancer, but they gave us time. And that time meant everything.”

For people with rectal cancer, there haven’t been many breakthroughs in years. We are grateful to Akamis Bio for supporting this story to create awareness about clinical trials and the importance of knowing all options when making treatment decisions. You can learn more about their FORTRESS study for locally advanced rectal cancer (LARC) at fortressstudy.org.

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