By: Robert “Bear” Bloomquist, 23, Ewing Sarcoma
On December 19th this year, my life changed in a way I never saw coming. That was the day I was diagnosed with Ewing sarcoma, a rare and aggressive cancer. Like most people my age, cancer was something I thought about happening to other people. Not me.
Looking back now, there were some warning signs. For a few months leading up to my diagnosis, I had some strange health issues, mostly abdominal discomfort, bladder problems, and constipation. Nothing that immediately screamed “cancer.” It was the kind of stuff you brush off or assume will pass with time. But eventually things got worse, and after a series of tests and scans, doctors found a large tumor in my abdomen. It measured around 20 centimeters.
Hearing the words “you have cancer” is something you never really prepare for. Everything slows down for a moment. Your mind jumps in a hundred different directions at once. Fear, confusion, disbelief, all of it hits at the same time. But pretty quickly after that moment, things move fast.
I spent the next 20 days in the hospital while doctors worked to stabilize my situation and start treatment for the tumor. Those weeks were intense. Hospitals are strange places, you lose track of time, your normal routines disappear, and suddenly your entire focus becomes fighting something happening inside your own body. It was a lot to process, but I was surrounded by incredible medical professionals and an unbelievable support system of family and friends.
Initially, my treatment started in Wisconsin, but soon after, my care was transferred to Minnesota. That transition was a big moment in my journey.
I immediately felt the difference. The level of expertise, the organization, the teamwork, it’s truly remarkable. My oncology team has been incredible. They approach everything with a plan, with confidence, and with the kind of attention to detail that gives you real hope.
My treatment plan involves aggressive chemotherapy cycles designed to shrink and destroy the tumor before surgery. The schedule is intense. One cycle includes a single-day infusion followed by a couple weeks of recovery, and then a five-day stretch of chemotherapy in the hospital before another recovery period. Then the process repeats.
Chemotherapy is no joke. It tests you physically and mentally. Some days are harder than others. Fatigue, nausea, and the overall grind of treatment are real challenges. But every session has a purpose, to wipe out cancer cells and move one step closer to beating this.
One thing I’ve learned during this process is how important mindset is. There are a lot of unknowns with cancer. Every case is different, every patient responds differently, and every day can bring new surprises. The best thing I can do is take it one step at a time. One treatment at a time. One day at a time.
I’ve also realized how powerful support can be. The messages, prayers, encouragement, and support from people around me, friends, family, and even people I barely know, have meant more than I can explain. It reminds you that you’re not fighting alone.
I’ve started sharing my journey publicly because I want people to understand what this fight looks like. Cancer is brutal, but it’s also something people beat every day. If telling my story helps even one person feel less alone, or encourages someone to keep pushing during their own fight, then it’s worth it.
Right now, I’m still in the middle of treatment. There are more chemotherapy cycles ahead and eventually surgery to remove what remains of the tumor. The road isn’t finished yet, but the plan is clear and the goal is simple: beat this thing.
If everything goes the way we hope, by next fall this chapter of my life will be behind me. Healthy again. Stronger again. Ready to move forward. Cancer may have interrupted my life, but it doesn’t get to define it. This is just a fight I’m going through right now, and one I fully plan on winning.