By Steph Geissinger, Cancer Survivor and Founder, sixdoves, a mission-driven brand delivering comfort and hope to those undergoing cancer treatment.
Summer of 2019. I was 28 years old, a newlywed, an executive at a fast-paced healthcare tech startup, and constantly on the move. I was, by all accounts, healthy. I was a former collegiate athlete who still worked out four days a week, mostly high-intensity training.
Nothing about my life screamed major health issue.
Yet, the pain had started—a nagging, dull ache in my lower right abdomen that I tried to ignore. I chalked it up to the corporate grind: too much travel, eating out more than usual, or maybe a bit of stress. I figured a healthy, young, active person like me just had a mild case of traveler's gut.
Three months later, the pain was no longer ignorable. It became a sharp, excruciating jolt that woke me up in the middle of the night. I started taking ibuprofen daily just to function. Finally, realizing this was beyond normal, I called the only person I knew who could offer a real clue: my father who was a physician.
Based on the location of the pain, he suspected appendicitis and urged me to see a primary care physician (PCP) immediately. That phone call was the beginning of a medical journey that would change everything.
The Runaround: "It's Just an Ulcer"
My first PCP appointment was in late June 2019. A full blood panel came back clean—not a single red flag. Based solely on my generalized symptoms, the doctor diagnosed a stomach ulcer and prescribed a two week medication. It did not resolve the issue which continued to worsen.
Two weeks later, my PCP referred me to a gastroenterologist (GI). My new GI doctor also ran extensive blood work for things like Celiac disease. Again, every lab result was normal. The next test was an endoscopy, which, predictably, was a waste of time and money since the scope couldn't reach the area where my pain was centered. At this point, the GI doctor became convinced I had Crohn's disease and was moving down that path.
Meanwhile, the pain was unbearable. I needed answers now.
Taking My Health Into My Own Hands
The hospital process for scheduling and approving a CT scan was slow, complicated, and frustrating. I could not wait. I decided to bypass the system, went to an independent imaging center, and paid out of pocket for a CT scan of the pelvis with contrast.
I’ll never forget that appointment. My husband was with me, thank goodness, as I had a severe allergic reaction to the IV contrast. My throat began to close, my eyes swollen, and I broke out in hives. A high dose of IV Benadryl stabilized the reaction but I was so drugged I couldn't drive. Overall, terrifying to say the least.
A few days later, I was back at work, trying to make it through the day, when I picked up the official CT report. I opened the file in my car.
I read the words: "large mass on my small bowel... presenting similar to Lymphoma."
I was in complete shock. Cancer. I knew something was wrong, but cancer? At 28? I cried until I couldn't breathe. I pulled myself together, walked back into our small coworking space, grabbed my computer, and hid in a phone booth to cry some more.
I’ll forever be grateful to the colleague who found me and somehow just knew something was terribly wrong. She walked with me as I broke down, listening without judgment. We ended up at a small bar and shared a beer — a simple gesture that became a memory I’ll always hold close. It gave me the space I needed to start processing what had just happened.
The Official Diagnosis: Non-Hodgkin’s Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma (DLBCL)
My current care team was furious that I had gone to an independent imaging center and openly doubted the findings of the radiology report. They said a radiologist should never suggest cancer because it was "out of their wheelhouse." I was caught between disbelief and fear — one moment being told I might have cancer, the next being told not to take it seriously.
This was the moment I realized I had to become my own advocate.
Through my network, I was introduced to one of the best surgical oncologists in the city. He reviewed my history and the CT scan images and agreed: Lymphoma was highly likely. The next step was a surgical pathology exam.
The planned laparoscopic biopsy procedure failed to reach the area of concern in my small intestine. The procedure immediately turned into a small bowel resection—a major surgery requiring a five-inch incision down my stomach. The surgeon examined my intestines and found a plum-sized mass. The tumor was resected with clean margins, knowing it was likely cancerous.
I spent five agonizing days in the hospital recovering, learning to re-train my digestive system on a liquid diet, and experiencing the most intense pain of my life.
On August 6th, 2019, the phone call came. My surgical oncologist confirmed the pathology results: Non-Hodgkin’s Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma (DLBCL).
I was officially diagnosed with cancer at the age of 28.
Nothing can prepare someone for that moment. Through the testing, the waiting, the worrying, a little part of me still remained hopeful this was not cancer. Hearing the words out loud still brings a lump to my throat. In that instant, my world shifted. My identity, my plans, my sense of control — all of it felt uncertain. But I also knew, somehow, that this was just the beginning of a new fight.
In Part 2 - “Cry Not Sulk”, I’ll share what happened next — the whirlwind of tests, doctor visits, and decisions that followed my diagnosis. If you’ve ever faced a health crisis, you know how overwhelming those first weeks can be. My hope in sharing this story is that it helps someone else feel a little less alone — and reminds you that strength often begins the moment you decide to keep moving forward.
To learn more about my story and follow our journey of supporting individuals undergoing cancer treatment visit sixdoves.
To be continued...
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