Katelyn’s story

My name is Katelyn. I’m 31 years old, a social worker, a mother to a beautiful 19-year-old whom I adopted through foster care, and the proud owner of two incredibly supportive and friendly animals, Alby and Tucker. This year, on the same day my divorce was finalized, I was diagnosed with a rare form of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. What a day—there was stiff competition for why that day will always be life-changing for me. Both events have deeply altered my worldview.

I’ve been told a couple of times, to my face, that this is "the good cancer." Mind you, that’s only by people who haven’t yet Googled my specific subtype. After reading enough medical journals and statistics, you quickly develop a change of heart.

Not only does this cancer have a low survival rate and is often unresponsive to treatment, but it also requires more aggressive therapy and is chronic. There will not be a day that this ends—unless I succumb to the illness plaguing my bloodstream. There’s no end in sight to the scans, labs, treatments, doctor’s appointments, or the scans of my naked body in front of countless strangers. Oh, and I forgot to mention, this rare diagnosis isn’t acting the way it’s supposed to. Just as I was getting used to the idea that this would be a problem for future Katelyn, and that right now I needed to focus on getting my affairs in order, there was a biopsy with concerning results. Now, I’m in the middle of six weeks of radiation therapy.

This is just the beginning of what will be a lifelong battle with cancer. I’m in week three right now, nearly halfway through my first round of treatment. Let’s see how it goes.

-Katelyn