When I was first told cancer vaccines were in clinical trials, and I had never heard of them before, I was shocked. I was a survivor. I was a medical journalist. I was steeped in the world of cancer, and I had never heard of such a thing. Why wasn’t this news everywhere, and why, if we had such promising science, wasn’t more being done to get it over the finish line?

“Silos,” said Nora Disis, MD, the oncologist widely considered to be one of the top experts in the world in cancer vaccines. “We need to get everyone out of their silos.” It was the spark of an idea. Could we get researchers out of their silos to collaborate on the promising science being developed for therapeutic and preventative cancer vaccines?

The answer was a resounding “yes.” Within a few weeks, many of the top oncologists and vaccine researchers had signed on for a collaboration—not just with each other but with me, a journalist. Soon, the momentum was so infectious, I left what had long been my dream job at NBC Nightly News and the Today Show to work full time on the collaboration. After all, many of the world’s biggest advances have come from collaboration, but this was not like any union I had seen before.

Many of the world’s biggest advances have come from collaboration.

My background is not in medicine. While I was premed when I first entered college, I had long since abandoned science classes to pursue network news around the world. Over my 30-year career, I had learned a little about a lot of things, quickly diving in and absorbing information every morning that I would need to be an expert in by the evening news. It may seem like an insufficient background to take part in a global effort to accelerate breast cancer vaccines, but there were skills that made me uniquely positioned to do just that. I knew the questions to ask of the real experts, how to translate dense information into understandable segments for any audience, and how to find the true “heart” of any story, no matter how complicated the subject matter might be.

In finding a single person impacted by a news event and weaving their individual story, journalists are able to break things down into the key elements of any issue, untangling even the most complex web. There is perhaps no better application of this skill than in health care. After all, every issue, ultimately (or should ultimately) come down to the patient, those individuals suffering from an ailment and the quest they and their clinicians are on to find solutions.

Years of interviewing have also made me a really good listener. For the past year, I have been listening to what the key stakeholders need to get cancer vaccines to market. Because of that, our partnership has grown. Just as scientists cannot advance science quickly in their own silos, development does not happen without patients to participate in clinical trials, pharmaceutical companies to manufacture and scale the medicines, government regulators to evaluate and hopefully efficiently approve vaccines, and payers to make sure that eventually treatments are covered and available to everyone. All of these diverse partners need to be communicating effectively and often, something that is 100 percent in my wheelhouse.

There are times we feel like the most unlikely crew ever assembled: scientists, journalists, doctors, business leaders, lawyers, and even a comedian/podcaster, but none of us are simply our titles. Each of us brings a unique perspective and skill set, and, together, we feel unstoppable. Many among us are also survivors, bringing that experience and passion to everything we do, along with an intimate understanding of “cancer-time,” that inescapable knowledge that time can be limited, and solutions are urgent.

We hope this unexpected partnership is exactly what is needed to finally break through to a cure. If we do that, I think we will be the least surprised of anyone. We believe deeply that the science is already unlocked and that, together, we may just hold the key to power it through the approval process and into waiting arms around the world.