I inherited a cancer gene from my dad. He also left me a game plan to live.

When I think about my dad, Jim Valvano, so many stories come to mind. You might even be familiar with some, like his celebratory lap – looking for someone to hug – following his 1983 NCAA basketball championship or his "Don’t give up, don’t ever give up!” speech as he accepted the Arthur Ashe Courage Award at the ESPYS 30 years ago. But for me, my favorite memories are the ones we shared privately.

Growing up, I loved when people commented on my likeness to my dad. Our faces were pressed together in many of our family pictures to highlight our similarities. I inherited his brown eyes, love of poetry (Kipling, Dickinson and Frost were among his favorites), his outgoing personality and long legs.

However, hidden in our genetic makeup, I also inherited a predisposition to cancer, which ultimately took his life in 1993.

In August 2005 while reading a book in bed, I felt a lump in my right breast. It was a marble-size ball that somehow appeared overnight. My first phone call was to my dad’s oncologist, Dr. Joe Moore. From the intimate knowledge he had about my dad’s cancer and the way it was treated, Dr. Moore knew that genetic testing was an immediate need.

In the span of only a week, a radiologist performed an ultrasound, leading to a biopsy that eventually ended with my breast cancer diagnosis. I stepped into my father’s footsteps as a cancer patient, with further testing revealing that I had inherited a genetic mutation, the BRCA2 gene, from my dad.

I'm a doctor. So is my mother. When she got cancer, I realized how little that mattered.

I inherited a cancer gene from my dad. He also left me hope for survival.

The treatment, surgeries and recovery were grueling. I admit that thoughts of giving up crossed my mind.

The person I so desperately needed strength from was no longer with us. I longed for my dad to make me giggle by sharing an outrageous tale or reciting a magical verse to bring me out of my sadness.

One morning, I sat at the kitchen table, tears rolling down my cheeks as I tried to remember his toothy grin and how his hand felt in mine. Then, as if he were sitting beside me, I heard his voice in my ear. It was a line from his ESPYS speech: "We need money for research. It may not save my life; it may save my children's lives. It may save someone you love. ... We are starting the Jimmy V Foundation for Cancer Research."

I’ve heard his speech hundreds of times. I was there the night he delivered it and could recite it by memory. But at that moment, I realized his words held a deeper meaning for me.

I was the “someone” he loved who might be saved. My dad had not abandoned me in my time of need but, instead, had left me with a game plan that allowed me to overcome the challenges ahead.

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Cancer research saved my life

This month, I celebrate being an 18-year cancer survivor, knowing that cancer research saved my life. A day does not go by that I don’t thank my dad for establishing an organization that continues to touch millions of people. I am honored to share our hope-filled story in my role as a motivational speaker.

And on Aug. 12, my family had another opportunity to honor my dad when he was inducted posthumously into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, Massachusetts. His impact on and off the basketball court was undeniable, and now his spirit will be forever honored among the greatest contributors to the sport.

I'm a cancer doctor. The Biden administration is putting drugs my patients rely on at risk.

My dad was fortunate to experience “cutting down those nets” after many unforgettable victories. But, as he enters the Hall of Fame, his final vision still needs to be achieved – victory over cancer.

Since his passing in 1993, the V Foundation for Cancer Research has awarded more than $310 million in grants for scientists and doctors to explore innovative treatments, develop new therapies and improve patients’ lives. Groundbreaking discoveries have been made, giving hope to millions worldwide.

As a coach’s daughter, I learned that nothing great can be accomplished without a united team. The V team will never give up until the day when they can cut down those nets and achieve the ultimate victory over cancer.

Jamie Valvano is the daughter of the late ESPN commentator Jim Valvano, a cancer survivor and inspirational speaker.

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This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Despite cancer, my dad, Jimmy V, didn't give up. That hope lives on