‘Life Goes On?’ Jennifer Anand’s Hodgkin’s Lymphoma Story

WHATNEXT is grateful to present this article that was written by and shared with permission from Jennifer Anand, a survivor of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Anand originally shared her story at Elephants & Tea, the only magazine written for and by the AYA cancer community telling their story in their own words.

I looked in the mirror as I furiously brushed my hair. It reached down maybe a third down my back. It’s taken 12 years to get this long. I’ve only ever trimmed and shaped it a few times; I worry about cutting a chunk off, in case it won’t grow back.

I just finished refilling my insulin pump, another cancer gift. I’m finally beginning to wear sleeveless clothes and not try to hide my SkinGrip cover for my continuous glucose monitor.

On my chest is a giant angry scar. The work of not one, but two Mediports. Finally, more than 10 years later, I’m learning to accept that it is a part of my life. I started just this summer to wear two dresses I feel good in, both of which do nothing to hide the long gash. It’s part of my story.

These external items have been hard to deal with in the past and will continue to be hard in waves. But the invisible scars are the hardest. No one sees them, so no one knows. The sympathy that a bald head brings is quickly forgotten when you can’t walk and keep up with the others. Everyone expects that you should be grateful to be alive, and that life returns to the golden roses.

And yet – it does not. The simple everyday things are forever altered.

The dentist appointment I have this afternoon. Yet another filling, for my wonderful teeth turned black and ruined due to the chemo cocktail.

The hiking invite from new friends. Cautiously accepted, in case I can’t keep up because of my lungs or knees or both.

The messages left on read for 9 hours now. Whatever plausible reasons there are for him not responding, my mind immediately goes to I’m not worth the effort because of the baggage I bring, and the limitations cancer has imposed on me.

Turning 30 and hearing everyone say how my body will now fall apart. Spoiler, it’s been falling apart since before January 10th, 2012, the day I first heard the word cancer.

There are creams and surgeries and remedies for the physical scars. But what will heal the invisible scars? The grief of never having biological children. The anxiety over every lab test and doctor appointment. The terror over every abnormal lump in my body.

Time heals all wounds they say. But does it really? It changes the wounds, but they will never heal fully. The grief of the life I should be living and cannot. The ache of sharing in the happiness of those who have what I desperately want. The pain of what will never be.

Scars, both visible and invisible, carried through my daily life with their staggering weight. And somehow- life goes on.

Source: Elephants & Tea

Elephants & Tea Hodgkin's lymphoma patient story

Last modified: March 7, 2025