Keith’s Cancer Journey (As of September 2025)

In May 2025, my world shifted when I was diagnosed with a non-seminomatous germ cell tumor. The journey began with an ultrasound that revealed a solid mass in my left testicle, leading to surgery — a left orchiectomy — on May 8. While it confirmed what we feared, it also gave us a clearer picture of what we were facing.

Bloodwork around that time revealed elevated tumor markers: my AFP was 51.5 ng/mL (well above normal), β-hCG measured 257 mIU/mL, and LDH was 225 U/L. These numbers weren’t just lab results — they were the fingerprints of the cancer, tools my medical team would use to track its behavior and response to treatment.

Scans soon followed, and they revealed more challenges. A chest CT on May 16 showed two suspicious pulmonary nodules in my right lung — one measuring 1.7 x 2.2 cm in the middle lobe and another 2.1 x 1.8 cm in the lower lobe. An abdominal CT suggested mildly prominent lymph nodes but no obvious spread elsewhere. A lung biopsy was planned but eventually canceled, as my doctors determined that chemotherapy offered the clearest path forward.

On June 23, I began four cycles of EP chemotherapy (Etoposide and Cisplatin). This would carry me through the summer, with the final cycle finishing on September 6. Chemotherapy is something you can prepare for in theory but never fully in practice. The days were long, filled with fatigue, nausea, and the physical toll of losing my hair. But through it all, there were bright moments. Lauren stood by me every step of the way, and Brinley’s smile gave me strength on the hardest mornings. Our family and friends showed up with meals, care packages, and acts of love that reminded me I was never fighting alone.

Even during treatment, the tumor markers told their story. On June 5, AFP rose to 178 ng/mL, with HCG at 214 mIU/mL and LDH at 188 U/L. While the numbers initially climbed, by the end of chemotherapy they had begun to fall, a sign that the drugs were doing their job.

September brought milestones I will never forget. On the 5th, I turned 41, and the oncology nurses sang me “Happy Birthday” as we shared cupcakes in the infusion room. The very next day, I rang in my last chemotherapy session — a moment sealed in my memory as the nurses gathered around, cheered, and placed a sticker on my shirt. It was equal parts relief, exhaustion, and gratitude.

Now the focus shifts to what comes next. My body is working hard to recover, and the chemotherapy drugs are finally clearing from my system. On October 9, I will undergo bloodwork to measure tumor markers again, along with other labs to check my blood counts, kidney and liver function, and magnesium levels. On October 13, I will have full-body CT scans to see what remains of the lung nodules and lymph nodes. Later in October, a multidisciplinary tumor board will review my results and determine whether additional surgery — such as lymph node dissection or lung biopsy — is necessary, or whether we can move forward with surveillance.

The risk of recurrence is highest within the first few years, but by year five or six, the odds drop significantly. It’s a sobering reality, but also one filled with hope. Each milestone brings me closer to recovery, and each day reminds me of how strong and resilient this journey has made me.

I carry immense gratitude for Lauren, who has been my constant support, and for our daughter Brinley, who has given me perspective and purpose through every hurdle. Our community of friends and family has lifted us in ways we never imagined possible. While the future is not entirely known, I step forward with cautious optimism, surrounded by love, and ready for whatever comes next.