Beat T-Cell Lymphoma in the brain last year!
I documented my story! I hope this gives good information on what ALCL ALK+ is like, and maybe some encouragement for anyone in general and also anyone who is a Christian. I'd love to hear thoughts and talk!
I am from Dallas, Texas, studying Bible and Theology along with Philosophy, Politics, and Economics while working as a Director at Chick-fil-A. My life was centered around college, church, friends, basketball, and normal routines until the end of my spring semester in 2025, when everything changed.
On May 12th, during finals week, I was sitting with friends watching an NBA playoff game when my right leg suddenly started convulsing. The shaking spread up the right side of my body and reached my head before stopping. I stayed conscious the entire time, but I was terrified. I later learned this was a Jacksonian March seizure.
I was taken to the emergency room, where an MRI revealed four tumors in my left frontal lobe. Within days, I went from finishing college assignments to having brain surgery, relearning how to walk properly, and receiving a diagnosis of T-cell lymphoma in my brain. Forgetting how to walk with my right leg when they took the first tumor out through surgery is the wildest story I get to tell people.
After further testing and a second opinion from MD Anderson specialists, I received my specific diagnosis: Anaplastic Large Cell Lymphoma (ALK-positive). It was an extremely rare cancer with very few documented cases, meaning there was not much history to guide treatment. Thankfully, my doctors at Baylor developed a plan involving only aggressive chemotherapy.
My first round of chemotherapy began in June. I received high-dose methotrexate and cytarabine. The treatment was effective, but complications with my seizure medication caused my liver numbers to rise dramatically. After a liver biopsy and switching anti-seizure medications, I was able to return home.
Shortly afterward, I experienced another major setback. A reaction from my new second seizure medication caused severe nerve pain in my legs, leaving me barely able to walk. I returned to the hospital, but during that same visit over a couple days I received incredible news: my post-first round check MRI showed a 99% reduction in visible cancer in my brain after only one round of chemotherapy (it was predicted to be around 60%). That day also brought another diagnosis: temporary steroid-induced diabetes caused by Dexamethasone. It was overwhelming, but thankfully it was not permanent and eventually resolved after stopping the medication.
Soon after on my 21st birthday, instead of celebrating with a party, I shaved my head. Watching my hair fall out was one of the most humbling parts of chemotherapy, but it was also when I fully accepted the battle ahead. Friends and family supported me, and some even shaved their heads with me.
Rounds two and three of chemotherapy went much smoother. Scans continued to show massive improvement, and I was able to regain some normalcy. During recovery periods, I spent time with friends and family, returned to activities like basketball and volleyball, and enjoyed moments that reminded me life was still moving forward.
The final stage of treatment was the hardest. I had a catheter placed in my chest and collected my own stem cells before beginning a powerful chemotherapy regimen called TBC: thiotepa, busulfan, and cyclophosphamide. The goal was to eliminate every remaining cancer cell, but it also destroyed much of my immune system. I entered Baylor’s cancer hospital on September 26th and stayed until October 21st. The treatment pushed my body to its limits. I experienced extreme nausea, painful side effects, and a period where I could not eat or drink at all. After chemotherapy, my collected stem cells were returned, known as stem cell transplant, to rebuild my immune system. On October 6th, after completing treatment and receiving my transplant (smelling like cream corn iykyk), I was declared cancer free.
Recovery was its own battle. I had to rebuild my strength and restore my immune system after getting nutrition from a tube for two weeks. It took 2 more weeks after being declared cancer free to be able to drink and eat again, and finally end the struggle for good. I recovered rapidly over the next couple months and eventually, I went back to work, returned to school, and watched my hair grow back. My MRI scans have remained clear, and although there is always a chance cancer could return, I do not live in fear.
Instead, I see this journey as a testimony of God’s faithfulness. If I had lived 100 years earlier, before modern chemotherapy existed, I would be dead 6 feet under. But through the medical care available today and the grace of God, I have been given more time and a renewed purpose.
Now I have the opportunity to share that hope with others. During a mission trip to South Padre Island, I shared my story with someone who was searching for answers about Christianity. After hearing my testimony, he opened his heart to the Gospel and gave his life to Christ.
Looking back, I do not see brain cancer only as a tragedy. It became the greatest testimony of my life.