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Myles
I’ve always known that I wanted a career in sports in some capacity. My dream since I was in the third grade has been to become a professional football player, but I also was taught the reality of that dream. When you’re little of course you just want to be what you want to be, but as you get older you start to learn what can be in your reach and what the true reality is. As I grew older, I started to think about life after high school football and even college football, if I am blessed with that opportunity.
Zeena
As an oblivious 14-year-old, I never imagined that I would soon go through the most difficult journey of my life. While on summer vacation with my family, we quickly realized I was not my energetic, joyous self. My favorite activities seemed like energy-draining tasks, and my large appetite had suddenly disappeared. The once quick trip up the stairs turned into a painful trek up a mountain and a walk down the street to a treacherous marathon with no end.
Jimmy
My journey with The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) began in the summer of 2020. My 17-year-old, two-sport athlete son Jimmy came to me complaining that he had pulled a muscle in his neck lifting weights for football and baseball. However, after many doctors’ appointments and tests, on June 12, 2020, in the middle of a pandemic, I received a call that his biopsy was indeed cancer, stage 3 advanced Hodgkin lymphoma (HL). I now had to tell my 17-year-old son that his worst fear was now a reality.
Jane
In October 2015, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma (HL). After growing up never getting sick, I had cancer. It was incredibly difficult to comprehend at the age of 13 that I was about to endure something most people won’t experience in a lifetime. I went through four rounds of chemotherapy and was in remission in January of 2016. Once you’re in remission, you believe that that’s the end. You’ll have a few check-ups here and there, but in your head, you envision no more cancer.
Sonny
The last conversation I had with my daughter Sonny was one that I will never forget. As she sat there exhausted from the leukemia and CDiff and sepsis that was ravaging her body; we talked about how much of a fight she put up. She could only respond with a short, “I know Momma”. To which I replied, “You don’t have to fight anymore baby.” Again, “I know Momma”. I told her that her Poppa was waiting in Heaven on his tractor to take her for a ride like she used to love when she was little.
