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Day 4 of going to the gym, and the universe handed me a wild reminder of how far I’ve come—emotionally and physically. I ran into someone from my freshman orientation group. That same orientation I missed more than half of because I was starting my first round of chemo.
I remember choosing not to wear my wig, knowing it’d be easier to focus on what mattered—getting to the hospital in the campus security car, making sure my clothes allowed access to my medical port, and prioritizing survival over appearances. I wasn’t there to impress anyone or make friends. I just showed up, bald, determined, and unwilling to hesitate.
Thinking back, it’s funny how often people asked why I chose to be bald. But years later, after so many medical scares and challenges, I’m here—and I can honestly say I’m alive in every sense of the word. That chance encounter reminded me of what I’ve survived and that every step I take, even on a treadmill at a 12% incline, is proof of how far I’ve come. 3 replies
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