The day before Bedlam in 2021, I went in to have CT scans for what I presumed would be a smooth-sailing, six-month follow-up appointment for previously-diagnosed-but-at-the-time-in-remission testicular cancer. I showed no definite signs of a recurrence to that point and had only small concerns (cancer patients never really have no concerns); recurrence rates in my specific case was less than 5% after I underwent chemo in April to treat stage 1B (which included removing, ahem, one of my magic eight-balls). Beyond just general fatigue and some brain fog, which I wishfully chalked up to a long recovery from the chemo, I hoped it’d be an uneventful check-in even knowing that given some of my symptoms, I could be in some trouble.
Boone: What Bedlam Football Means to Me
