During the start of the pandemic, my boyfriend began working out from home with all the gyms being closed. While working out, he discovered a lump under his arm. We both waved it off as nothing to worry about, but he still asked his doctor about it just in case. His doctor wanted him to get it biopsied. I dropped him off for surgery, still naive that anything would actually be wrong. He wasn't showing symptoms, he was active and healthy, plus he was young. “We” were young. We were in love, talking about getting engaged, and just moved in together. What could go wrong?
Three days later, he called me. He barely could get it out, "I have Hodgkin lymphoma (HL)." I was so caught off guard I asked what that was. "Cancer. I have cancer." I immediately went home and the rest of the day turned into a blur. The next day I was on the phone with one of the top hospitals in the nation, which happens to be in our city, to get a second opinion. That's what Google told me to do ― get a second opinion. I also googled “young adult cancer support groups” and came up short. That was the start of feeling unseen as a young adult going through a cancer crisis as a caregiver.
Within a week or so, his medical team had a treatment plan figured out. One week of a chemo dose, one week off, repeat. Right before he started his treatment cycle, we eloped. We decided we wanted to be a team going into that scary chapter. In sickness and in health never felt more appropriate.
Our "honeymoon" was spent in the hospital for his first chemo dose. I went into full-on caregiver mode for the next four months. I sat with him through the treatment appointments, made him food he could barely stomach, made sure he took his medicine on time, and sanitized like crazy. COVID-19 was still so new that vaccines weren't a reality yet. That meant it was just the two of us. We both were fortunate enough to work from home, so for nearly four months, we stayed in the house unless we were going to the hospital or on isolated hikes when his energy was good enough. Friends and family stopped by to wave through the window and drop off goodies, which was nice.
The week of Thanksgiving he rang the bell to symbolize finishing his treatment and going into remission. Talk about being thankful. While we were transitioning back into our "normal" life, I felt incredibly lost. My husband beat cancer, yet I didn't know how to go back into society acting like everything was okay. I was grateful, tired, terrified, happy, and many more emotions ― needless to say, I was incredibly confused. That's when I discovered a program offered by The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) that connects you with someone who was in your shoes five years prior. This was the first time I talked to another caregiver. She made all of my thoughts, worries, and feelings feel normal. I will be forever grateful for that phone call and to LLS for that support! Now, I emcee a number of events for our local LLS region including Light The Night (LTN)!
Allison
Caregiver
