My cancer journey began in May 2023. I woke up on Mother’s Day to find a swollen tonsil the size of a golf ball in the back of my throat. My twin sister, Alessia, had just graduated the day before, and I was set to graduate the following weekend. Knowing I had an annual physical scheduled after graduation, I decided to wait until then before worrying about it.
When I went to that physical appointment, the doctor I saw was not my primary care physician. He asked if the tonsil bothered me, and I said no. He told me not to worry about it and sent me on my way. I was relieved to hear that because I was in the process of transferring from the University of Maryland to Stony Brook University to play football and pursue my MBA.
My mom’s intuition told her something wasn’t right, so she scheduled another appointment with my primary care physician. After one glance at my tonsil, he immediately became concerned. He referred me to an ENT, who looked at it, admitted he didn’t know what it was, and told me to come back in a month.
I had started my first round of chemotherapy within that month. That only happened because I decided to seek another opinion. I went to see Dr. Kakani, and he was the one who said, "That tonsil needs to come out." On July 20, 2023, I underwent a tonsillectomy. Six days later, Dr. Kakani called me back into his office and delivered the news that I had Burkitt lymphoma (BL).
To receive news like that is a feeling unlike any other.
Two days later, I met the two women who would lead the charge in saving my life: Dr. Lisa Roth and NP Mindy Jaffe. From day one, they had a plan, and that plan was to "beat the crap out of this disease, and it will just be a bump in the road of your life."
The plan consisted of four rounds of inpatient chemotherapy, each lasting five to six days. In addition, I underwent a spinal tap at the beginning and end of every round of chemotherapy.
While it was the most physically and emotionally demanding period of my life, I also experienced moments that I will cherish forever. Those moments came from the incredible doctors, nurses, and fellow patients I met throughout my time on the floor. One patient in particular was a young girl named Elianna. Although there was an age gap of more than 18 years between us, we were attached at the hip throughout our respective treatments. It was that young girl who taught me the motto I will live by forever: Just Keep Swimming.
It was the motto that carried me to ringing the bell on November 29, 2023, signifying that I was cancer-free. It was the motto that carried me back onto the football field on August 30, 2025, for the first time in more than 1,000 days. It is the motto that continues to drive me to share my story. That is why, when I was asked to be an Honored Hero and speak at the Long Island Visionaries of the Year event in early June, I did not hesitate to say yes.
Cancer changed my life in ways I never could have imagined. It challenged me, humbled me, and ultimately gave me a new perspective on what truly matters. If sharing my story can help even one person find hope during their own battle, remind someone to trust their instincts, or inspire them to keep putting one foot in front of the other, then every difficult moment has served a greater purpose. No matter what challenges life presents, I will continue to live by the words that carried me through the hardest season of my life:
Just Keep Swimming!
Anthony
lymphoma
