My story starts in early December 2024. I had been getting sick a lot that year, and it finally struck me as odd when it just wouldn’t go away. I had this intense pressure in my chest as if something was sitting on top of it. Something felt wrong. I finally realized I had to go in and get checked out; I could no longer ignore my body. Early one morning, I went to urgent care, figuring I might have pneumonia or a chest infection and that I’d be sent home with some medication. I had no idea that my whole life would change that day and that I’d never be the same again. I pushed for the doctor to check for pneumonia. At first, he brushed it off as nothing serious, telling me I was a young, healthy 32-year-old with a cold. But he ordered a chest X-ray anyway. When the results came back, he informed me that they had found something in my chest that didn’t look right. He immediately ordered a same-day CT scan. That’s when I started to feel anxious and unsettled. When the CT scan results came back, I was told I had something called a mediastinal mass sitting on top of my heart and wrapping itself around major valves. I didn’t know what any of that meant. All my brain comprehended was, "I’m 32, and I’m going to die right now. This is it." Flashes of my life ran through my mind. I was in complete shock. I felt numb. "I’m 32, and I didn’t even do anything in my life."
Everything changed that day, and my life hasn’t been the same since.
The mediastinal mass turned out to be cancer. After many tests, the doctors discovered it had spread to my bones. In late January 2025, I was diagnosed with stage 4 Hodgkin lymphoma (HL). Everything moved fast. I started treatment immediately, and now, I’m in the fight. This week, I’m about to undergo my third chemotherapy infusion — that’s three out of 12 treatments. After the first two infusions, I’ve learned that I have about 10 days of recovery before I start feeling semi-normal again, giving me around five days a month when I can do things I enjoy. My life has become about living for those five days, and even those aren’t guaranteed as chemotherapy could make me feel worse as I go deeper into treatment. Knowing how limited my "normal" time is, I’m forced to dig deeper into what truly matters to me. And when I do the things I love, I enjoy them so fully.
I am present now.
If anything, this experience keeps giving to me. Yes, there is pain, and treatment is incredibly tough, but cancer has given me perspective, and that perspective keeps deepening as I continue this journey. When I became sick, people from all different parts of my life reached out to support me, showing me how deeply loved I was. I was able to see, in real-time, how much I mattered, a gift I wish everyone could experience. You have no idea how much you matter or how many lives you’ve touched. Fighting for my life forced me to think about the life I was fighting for. What do I want to do with it after I win?
I now feel a responsibility to live fully on the other side of this, and that transformation has already begun. Everything has shifted — the way I think and speak to myself, the way I share my story online openly, the way I pour myself into my creative passions in photography, art, and filmmaking, and even the way I simply enjoy life. It’s all positive. I finally feel like the person I was meant to be. Cancer has given me the perspective and mental shift I needed to truly live my life. I feel grateful in the midst of treatment. All I know is that when I ring that bell after my 12th treatment, I will be the person I was fully meant to be. I will be ready to go out into the world and share my sweet, beautiful self.
Crystal
Hodgkin lymphoma (HL)
