Lacing up my joggers, I glanced at the mirror. “It’s getting bigger,” I said to my mum, Bobbie, showing her the lump on my neck.
“Please get it checked,” she replied, worried.
“I’ll make an appointment,” I promised, before leaving for a run.
It was January 2025 and as a 20-year-old juggling my teaching degree and a part-time job, running was my stress relief. At first, I’d assumed the lump was due to exhaustion, but now it was the size of a tennis ball. That week, my GP sent me for tests at Toowoomba hospital.
Next month, my dad, Jason, Mum, and I returned for the results. “It’s stage 3 advanced Hodgkin’s lymphoma,” the haematologist said.
“No,” Mum cried. “He’s only 20.” I went into shock. The cancer was…
