Hi everyone — if you don’t know me, my name is Quincy, and I am 26 years old.

In February 2026, I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Triple Negative Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, a form of breast cancer that requires aggressive treatment and is extremely rare for my age. I’m sharing my story because I think it’s important for young women—and really anyone—to hear. A fun (not so fun) fact: men can get breast cancer too.

In the summer of 2025, I noticed a lump and some pain at different points in my cycle. During my annual physical, it was noted but believed to most likely be a fibroadenoma, which is very common for women in their 20s. So I felt comfortable moving on with life as usual.

But during the second half of 2025, I started feeling unlike myself. Fatigue set in and began affecting my once extremely active lifestyle. Staying active has been a huge part of my adult life. CrossFit, lifting, yoga, snowboarding, running, and mountain biking have been some of my favorite ways to move and spend time outdoors.

When my body stopped wanting to do those things, I probably should have realized something was wrong—but I didn’t think much of it at the time. I assumed maybe I was just tired, stressed, or going through a bout of depression. Looking back now, it’s hard not to believe my body was trying to tell me something.

At the end of January 2026, I returned to the doctor and the lump had grown significantly. From that moment forward, every test and appointment was ordered STAT. That’s a good thing medically—but it’s also a word that comes with a lot of weight. This all required me cancelling a highly anticipated trip to Puerto Rico (still fighting the airline for a refund).

While I’d like to keep some parts of this journey private, I’m open to answering well-meaning, non-invasive questions if it helps someone else who might be experiencing something similar.

Because of the type of cancer I have, my treatment plan is considered aggressive but curative at this time, involving lumpectomy, chemotherapy, immunotherapy, and surgery (a mastectomy/reconstruction), and countless scans and tests. I am also now experiencing additional complications due to an ulcerative colitis flare believed to be caused by a drug in my treatment plan, which is further incapacitating me.

I’m incredibly fortunate to have a wonderful and supportive job (currently on unpaid medical leave), health insurance (at this time, subject to change/drop based on future employment situation), and an amazing support system of family and friends. However, even with insurance, cancer treatment comes with significant financial costs that quickly add up, even with financial support organizations that can only give so much. The financial burden is becoming very real as my income does not keep up with the incoming cost, especially being on unpaid medical leave on a single income.

If you know me, you know asking for help isn’t something I’m very good at. But I’m learning that in situations like this, it’s okay to lean on the people who care about you.

Funds raised here will help cover things like:

* Health insurance premiums (full cost)

* Copays, coinsurance, deductibles.

* Out-of-pocket medical expenses

* Prescriptions and medical supplies

* Travel and gas for appointments

* Household expenses, bills, groceries during unpaid time off from work

If you are able to give—no matter how small—it would mean more than I can say.

And if you’re not in a position to donate that is totally ok and not expected, but a share is appreciated.

The last thing I want to say is this:

Listen to your body. It’s usually telling you something. If something feels off, don’t wait—any lump is a lump that shouldn’t be there. If you have access to medical care, get all of your preventative screenings and annual physicals and advocate for yourself.

Cancer doesn’t care if you are healthy.

Cancer doesn’t care if you have no inherited gene mutations.

Cancer doesn’t care that you’re in the middle of your career.

Cancer does care of about your mile time, muscle mass, or heart health.

Cancer doesn’t care if you don’t have health insurance.

Cancer doesn’t care if you have a non-refundable vacation planned.

Cancer doesn’t care.

Thank you for reading, for sharing, and for being part of my support system during this fight. I appreciate each one of you.

My faith and endurance comes from the promises found at Revelation 21:3,4 and Isaiah 33:24. I know that this suffering is only temporary and that a beautiful future awaits me.

— Quincy