Josephine Crone

In January of 2023, I was 20 years old, just starting my second semester of my second year of university, and working as a dietary aide. But something had felt wrong for months. My friends and family noticed that I was significantly thinner, paler, and more exhausted than ever. I continued to ignore these symptoms, assuming that they would go away eventually. But they didn’t. I started feeling faint and blacking out. One day while I was running upstairs to get to a lecture, my vision went black and I almost collapsed on the cold concrete steps.

I finally went to student health services on campus when I felt the lump on the side of my neck. I told the doctor about my symptoms, and she told me to get a chest X-ray and blood work. Within 24 hours of that original appointment, I had a tentative diagnosis: Lymphoma. Two scans and a biopsy later, it was confirmed to be Stage VI Classic Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

I started my first of 6 rounds of chemo in March of 2023. I had a PICC line inserted and got biweekly infusions. My oncology pharmacist colloquially dubbed my treatment “the Lamborghini of Lymphoma Treatments”. It was a brand new chemo regimen right out of clinical trials that maximized the targeting of the cancer cells and was gentler on normal cells. I got a CT scan in late May to see if the treatment was working, and the results reflected how I felt: so much better.

My mom came to stay with me during the first few weeks of my treatment to care for me while also allowing me to keep going to school and be close to my friends. I dropped two of my five classes that semester, and did my best to keep up with my studies with the support of my peers and professors. My sister also took a turn as my caregiver, moving in with me for the summer after her undergraduate graduation. My final treatment was on August 16th, and my brilliant sister went on to begin her Masters degree in Pathology that September.

In January, 2024, exactly one year after my initial diagnosis, I got a PET scan that confirmed that I was in full remission.

Cancer is an incredibly personal experience, accounting for such a wide variety of symptoms and treatments. Even two people with the same kind of cancer will experience it in a completely different way, and will need different treatments, resources, and services.

People that I barely knew, who barely knew me, and even people who had no idea that I existed, all contributed to my treatment and remission. So much of that support was thanks to LLSC and other organizations like it. The “lamborghini” that drove me back to a semi-normal young adult life, the stipends that paid for my rides to the hospital, the wig that made me feel pretty again. I will forever be grateful to everyone who contributed to small moments of comfort and joy through the hardest experience I have ever endured. From my closest family and friends, to the kind strangers who had no idea that they made a sick 20 year old smile.