In 2018, I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia (AML). In one moment, the life I knew was replaced by hospital rooms, treatment, uncertainty, and the daily work of staying alive. Before cancer, I had spent years working as a chef and building my identity around what I could do for other people. AML changed my body, my confidence, my relationships, and the way I understood time.
During treatment, life became one day at a time. There were no grand plans. There was the next test, the next treatment, the next breath, and the people willing to stay present through the fear. I learned that support is not always about having the right words. Sometimes it is simply having someone sit beside you long enough to remind you that you are still here and not facing the fight alone.
Surviving treatment was only one part of the journey. Afterward, I had to learn how to live inside a life that no longer felt familiar. My health had changed. My sense of purpose had changed. The person I had been before cancer could not simply return unchanged. I had to rebuild my identity, confidence, creativity, and direction while carrying the fear that comes with survivorship.
Writing and art became part of that rebuilding. They gave me a place to tell the truth about fear, isolation, caregiving, gratitude, anger, faith, and the complicated reality of being alive after a life-threatening illness. Over time, that private work became books, paintings, videos, and survivor-centered resources created to help other people feel seen. I eventually wrote Alchemize the Fight to explain AML through lived experience and plain language, while honoring patients, caregivers, and survivors whose lives are changed by the disease.
Eight years after my diagnosis, I remain cancer-free. I do not say that as if everything returned to normal or every wound disappeared. Survivorship has taught me that healing is not the same as going back. It is learning how to become whole in a different way. It is accepting what changed, honoring what was lost, and choosing what to build with the life that remains.
Today I am an author, visual artist, and speaker. My work is grounded in a simple message: AML may change a life, but it does not get the final word. Understanding, honest connection, creativity, and service helped me find my bearings again. I now try to use what I lived through to help patients, caregivers, and survivors feel less isolated and more able to take their next step.
If someone newly diagnosed with AML reads this, I want them to know that fear does not make them weak and that they do not have to understand the whole road at once. There may be days when surviving the day is enough. There may also come a time when the fight becomes knowledge, compassion, purpose, or a way to stand beside someone else. Whatever that path looks like, they are not alone.
Jason
acute myeloid leukemia (AML)
