At 25 years old, I was living my life like any of my peers. I felt young and invincible, working towards my career goals, navigating life the best I could. In early 2023, I noticed some strange symptoms, including an overwhelming fatigue. I would look at my friends and wonder how they had so much energy, but I figured "this is just a part of growing up."
Then I had a cough that started lightly but got worse and worse throughout the year. Accompanying that cough was back pain. Some nights the pain got so bad I would debate going to the hospital. I visited my primary care physician towards the end of 2023. At this point, the cough was so bad I was heaving during a coughing attack, and my back pain was so sharp that I was afraid to move. He wrote me off with "acid reflux" causing the cough and "a bad golf swing" causing the back pain. He neglected my symptoms simply because I was young.
I saw specialists after specialists for my back and got prescribed medication after medication. Chiropractors and sports therapists, muscle relaxers and proton pump inhibitors. I would call his office, desperately in need of support. I went in to see him five times in two weeks, each time he would increase my doses.
I was fed up, and eventually someone said, "Maybe your acid reflux is due to a hiatal hernia." I've never been so excited in my life to have a hiatal hernia. I called my doctor's office and requested an X-ray. He had been exhausted from seeing me and ordered it without a visit. I skipped into the X-ray facility some days later, overjoyed after many months of no relief, thinking this would finally give me freedom from these symptoms. The report arrived fast after my X-ray. There was no hiatal hernia, instead, a mediastinal mass accompanied by two other shadows. They needed to perform a CT as soon as possible. I knew it wouldn't be good, but I wanted to try to have hope.
A biopsy confirmed I had non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL). I'll never forget the doctor calling me and sharing this news. I lost my youthful invincibility that day. Almost as hard as hearing it from my doctor was having to share the news with my parents, that their only child has been diagnosed with blood cancer.
It was so aggressive that we had scheduled me to start chemo only a week or two after my full diagnosis. I remember sitting outside and taking it all in, fearful of what treatment would be like. My heart began to race while I was thinking about it, and I thought I was having a panic attack. I then realized this was different. I started to lose consciousness and fought hard to stay awake.
I called my Mom and shared my condition. She fortunately didn't live far from where I was, but I was declining quickly. I managed to get into my car and drive over. I arrived in her driveway and collapsed from my front seat onto the stone driveway. Her partner, David, scooped me up into his car and drove like a racecar driver to the hospital. They took me in and stabilized me. I was informed that my mass had cystic components and was leaking fluid around my heart. They said my heart was essentially drowning. They started chemotherapy right away.
I received EPOCH-R, a very aggressive chemo regimen that involves receiving chemotherapy nonstop from Monday to Friday every day, all day and overnight, all night for five days straight. I did this every 14 days for six months. It didn't stop while I ate. It didn't stop when I slept. It didn't stop when I went to the bathroom or had other procedures done.
During my inpatient treatment, I also underwent "spinal taps." I was majorly disappointed to discover there was no rock and roll involved in these "spinal taps" (hahaha). This procedure would involve a needle going into my spine, large enough to drain some spinal fluid out to test for cancer in my nervous system. Then, in the same procedure, after removing the spinal fluid, chemo was poured into my spine to prevent the possibility of it occurring. Not fun . . . I'll say that much.
After six months, I was signed up for radiation every day for about two months. This wasn't as bad comparatively but came with its own challenges. I then did medications, and I'm overjoyed that as of the start of 2025, I have been in remission with no sign of disease.
Now I undergo monitoring through bloodwork and PET scans. When I was initially diagnosed, I had many friends and family calling and texting me daily to get updates on how I was, and as I entered deeper into the treatment, fielding these calls and texts became somewhat burdensome.
I decided to make a page to document my journey for them so that they could receive updates. I also made this page in hopes of bringing together a community and perhaps meet some others going through cancer or survivors who could share with me details of their triumph. I remember sitting there and wondering what my social media handle should be called. I decided on “Jace Beats Cancer” as a declaration of my outcome. I would not let cancer win. I promised myself I would be as open and honest as possible in my videos. I had no intention of virality. It was intended as a daily journal of sorts. What happened was astonishing to say the least.
Over the course of documenting my journey, a community of almost one million people across all platforms are following. A community of people who are going through cancer. A community of people who have beaten cancer. A community of people who just want to help. What this community has done for me as I've gone through my own cancer journey is nothing short of true medicine. The insights, strength, hope, love, resilience, prayers, and a million more things. It has been a key component of my journey. I realized with this new following, I had the opportunity to give back and extend the love I received to others.
I have made it my mission always to do whatever I can to help others with cancer. Although I've just begun my journey, I have had the privilege of meeting so many others who share this exact purpose. With this following, I have started my own 501c3 to support others facing cancer, and I have dedicated a lot of my time to doing as much advocacy work as I can.
I'm grateful for my experience with cancer in so many ways. I'm grateful to be alive. I'm even more grateful to feel alive.
Jace
Non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL)
