Stand Up To Cancer

Ben Teller is the founder of Cuck Fancer. He recently learned he's facing a recurrence of Hodgkin's lymphoma.

Where do I begin? How about with: WHAT THE EFF!? I don't think any of us hoped that I would ever be writing one of these again, at least not for this reason. I was 18 months clean and strong like Russian bull. I was taking a full load of classes at school, I had two solid internships, and I was living 20 feet from the beach in Newport! Life was good. I guess you can guess what I'm feeling. Cancer really makes you appreciate what you "used to" have. But please don't feel sorry for me. I will have it all again soon. The question I seem to get from everybody is, "How did all this come about?"

One beautiful August morning, I was off for a routine PET/CT scan. Honestly, I didn't give it a second thought. The doctor called my mom the next day and said, "We think we found something, but we aren't sure." They were hoping it was an anomaly, or some type of infection, or a false positive -anything but THAT! My doctor (Raul Mena, who we all adore) said that my cancer, if it was back, was slow-growing, so waiting three months would not harm me at all. Besides, he and everyone else NEVER believed it could be back.

So off to school I went. Come December, I finished my first quarter of school and went in for another PET/CT scan. It was similar to the day that the Americans invaded Normandy: we knew it was coming, but nobody really wanted to go. I mean, come on; there is no way that it's back. I am young, I fought it off the first time and was categorized as a "rapid responder"; I'm good. No worries, Ben. That is what I kept telling myself. I pretty much tell myself that to this day.

I got a call the next morning and it wasn't good news. The area previously seen in August had not only not gone away; it had gotten a bit more "intense." They knew it was something. (By the way, I still thought it was nothing.)

I had three options: One, wait three more months to see if it went away or got bigger. Yeah, RIGHT! Two: get a second opinion. I have the best doctor in the world; not gonna happen. Three: have a biopsy, find out what this stuff is and move on from there.

Being the instant gratification kind of guy that I am, give me door number three. I knew I would be in pain from the surgery, but if it meant not having cancer, it was worth it.

To learn more, visit Ben's website: cuck-fancer.com.