February 7, 2026, was the happiest day of my life. Surrounded by family and friends, I married my best friend and the love of my life. Less than a month later, on March 6, 2026, I found myself lying in a hospital bed at Jupiter Medical Center, hearing the words no one wants to hear: "You have a form of blood cancer known as acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL)." The words hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been experiencing intense back and chest pain for a few weeks, so I knew something was wrong, but even when running through the "worst-case-scenarios" in my head, the idea of cancer never once crossed my mind.
Knowing almost nothing about cancer before my diagnosis, I always thought of cancer as something that affected young children, the elderly, and people who were predisposed to cancer via work, environment, or lifestyle choices. As a 32-year-old who exercises regularly, does not smoke, and pays twice as much for groceries that have a "USDA Organic" label, surely I would be the last person to be afflicted by this horrible disease, right? Unfortunately, I had a lot to learn.
What started as a quick trip to the emergency room turned into a month-long stay at Moffitt Cancer Center, where I underwent weeks of induction chemotherapy. The chemo took a toll on my body, but it was nothing compared to the toll the entire situation was taking on my mental health. As a young attorney at a personal injury law firm, I was at a phase in my career where I needed to be grinding out long hours, proving my worth, and putting myself in a position for long-term success at my firm. Now, in the blink of an eye, I had gone from feeling like an asset to feeling like a liability. I had gone from being the person other attorneys could come to for help on their cases to being the person who needed help from everyone else. Fortunately, my firm has been amazing throughout this entire experience, but the feeling that I am falling behind on my career path is a nagging feeling that I cannot seem to shake.
Following induction, the mental and emotional toll was taken up a notch when my bone marrow biopsy results came back showing significant residual disease. I had done weeks of treatment without any real side effects, I had done everything the doctors asked of me, yet the cancer remained. Hearing this was almost as devastating as the initial diagnosis. The doctors had told me about how treatable my disease was, so knowing that I am a young, otherwise healthy male, I figured the chemo would wipe the cancer right out, and I would be on my merry way. Not so.
When the results came back, I had to come to terms with the fact that nothing was guaranteed. This was the first moment I realized my cancer actually might not react to treatment the way the doctors were hoping. What would happen then? Are there other treatment options? These were just some of the thousands of questions that filled my mind in that moment. Fortunately, the team at Moffitt did not skip a beat in telling me this was not the end of the world and that there were still many treatment options available to me.
Following a month of blinatumomab and ponatinib, I am happy to say that my latest bone marrow biopsy showed NO detectable leukemia. While this is obviously an amazing first step toward regaining control of my life, I know the journey is far from over. I will be starting a round of CAR-T in the middle of July to deepen the remission. After that, my team and I will discuss whether to proceed to a transplant or stick to a prolonged period of ponatinib. Whichever path we ultimately choose, I know it is not going to make sweating out the results of countless bone marrow biopsies any easier over the coming years. With that said, based on everything I have been through over the past few months, I could not be happier with where I am or more appreciative of the help, support, and love of everyone who has helped get me to this point.
Halley
acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL)
