By: Brian Carlson, Testicular Cancer

In June, I was diagnosed with testicular cancer for the second time. Hearing those words again felt surreal — like a nightmare I thought I’d already woken up from. The first time was back in April 2015. I was young and blindsided by the diagnosis, which stemmed from an undescended left testicle. The tumor turned out to be 100% embryonal carcinoma, a pure non-seminoma. I underwent an orchiectomy to remove the tumor and the testicle, and fortunately, there was no sign of metastasis in my lymph nodes or lungs. Still, my oncologist recommended chemotherapy to ensure nothing was left behind.

After three grueling rounds of BEP chemo, I was declared in full remission. I remember walking out of that final appointment with a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude — feeling like I’d been given my life back. For almost ten years, I lived cancer-free. Life felt normal again, and I truly believed that chapter was closed for good.

Then, almost exactly a decade later, I started to notice something off. My right testicle seemed to be getting larger, slowly but steadily. I tried to brush it off at first, convincing myself it was nothing. But soon it became painful and uncomfortable — by the time I went to urgent care, it was the size of a goose egg. Within an hour of blood work and an ultrasound, the doctor looked at me with that familiar, heavy expression. He said he was almost certain it was cancer again.

Two days later, I met with my urologist, who confirmed what I already suspected: testicular cancer, round two. The wild part was that it wasn’t even the same type as before. My elevated tumor markers showed it was something different this time. My oncologist explained that I’d need another orchiectomy, and just like that, I was back on a path I never thought I’d walk again.
I had surgery in July, then waited four long weeks before getting my blood drawn to see if my levels had dropped. Before surgery, my hCG was over 5,000 mIU/mL. When the results came back, it was down to 4 — not quite normal, but close. The pathology showed 98% seminoma and 2% non-seminoma with lymphovascular invasion. My doctors weren’t sure what the next step should be: another three rounds of BEP or surveillance. We decided to repeat the bloodwork, considering I had just started testosterone replacement therapy about five weeks after surgery.

When the results came back, my hCG had dropped below 2 — finally normal. I can’t describe the relief I felt. For now, I’m officially on observation for the next three years. That day was one of the best doctor’s appointments I’ve ever had.
This journey has taken me through some of the darkest, most uncertain moments of my life. The anxiety and fear were real, but so was the strength that came from pushing through. No matter how hard it gets, there really is light at the end of it all. And knowing I have such an amazing support system — both in my circle and this community — has made all the difference.