Throughout our lives, we often live with the adolescent mentality of "it could never happen to me," a bias inherent in human nature that makes us incredibly susceptible to life's harsh realities. I, like many others, adopted that idealistic perspective, which later proved to be more of a disservice than I could have previously fathomed. After graduating from high school, I was anxiously waiting to begin my college academic career. In August, I said goodbye to my family, moved my belongings, and started on my new and exciting adventure. I was unaware of the reality I would be met with soon after. Just 16 days after my 18th birthday, I received news that would alter my life forever. I was in my dorm, scrolling mindlessly on social media, when I received a call from my physician’s office. As soon as I answered the call, my stomach dropped. Nothing had been said yet, but I knew I had just a few seconds to prepare for what I was about to hear. The doctors began to speak, their voices shaky and nervous, as they informed me that they had found a mass in my colon, and it was cancerous. I went mute. The doctors were giving me information, but none of it was being retained. They couldn’t answer questions about the stage yet. I was completely non-verbal. Following this, my life changed completely. The next day, my mother picked me up. I had virtually no time to process or speak to professors and friends. I had to leave behind my education and the life I established at Binghamton University, with no clue when I would return. Returning home, uncertainty rose. Doctors lacked answers to the questions bothering me most. What type of cancer was it? What stage? Would I need treatment? Managing this was virtually impossible. Balancing schoolwork, personal feelings, appointments, and keeping everyone updated became a constant cause for stress as the days went on. Eventually, the doctors had a plan: surgery to remove a third of my colon, followed by chemotherapy. An insurmountable level of stress and confusion overcame me. There was too much information to process, but what caught my attention most - though it may seem superficial - was the fear of losing my hair. Thankfully, this did not occur and was not a symptom of the chemo. After hearing this and asking what felt like a million questions, I felt a sort of relief and comfort in having some clue as to what would be coming next. I began chemo soon after. After a long few months away during treatment, I was finally able to return to a somewhat "normal life." I had a few months before the next semester and spent time working to make money and pass the time. I eventually returned to college, and to say I thrived would be an understatement. I immersed myself in campus life, made many friends, joined organizations, and even became a member of their executive boards, all while being closely monitored. However, this was not the end. At a checkup, two massive tumors were found on my ovaries; they, along with my fallopian tubes, had to be removed. This news hit me harder than last time, but I was determined to finish this semester. I decided I would miss one week of school, have surgery, and come back to finish the semester to the best of my ability. After this, chemotherapy will resume, seeing as the spread now puts me within the category of Stage 4 cancer - something I recently had hoped would be anything but true.