The pain no one could see: How my Cancer journey began

I never expected to hear the word "cancer" at 25.

But the story didn’t start with a diagnosis.

It started with pain no one else could see—and answers that didn’t come easily.

For almost two years, I felt off. It started with strange neck spasms that would stop me mid-drive and leave me in tears. The first few times, I tried to brush it off. But eventually, the pain became constant—settling into my neck and upper back like an unwanted companion.

I went to my family doctor and explained what I was feeling. His response?

“It’s probably anxiety.”

He didn’t say it unkindly, maybe a little bit dismissive, but that moment planted a seed of doubt: What if it really is all in my head?

I started physiotherapy. I kept up with my chiropractic treatments. I took medications. At one point, I was taking up to 15 pills a day (pain killers, muscle relaxants) just to get through.

I tried massage, heat packs, stretching—anything. For a short while, I could function. I even returned to work full-time as a pediatric ICU nurse. But underneath it all, I knew something was wrong.

Still, I stayed quiet.

Even when my husband, Jeff, gently encouraged me to seek a second opinion.

Even when the pain worsened.

Even when my gut and heart started whispering louder: This isn’t nothing.

Pushing through - living life - even through the pain

Finally asking again

In March 2016, I finally listened to that voice. I found a new family doctor and explained the spasms, the pain, the strange symptoms I’d learned to live with. She ordered a full physical, bloodwork, ECG—everything.

Everything came back… normal.

But I wasn’t.

Thankfully, my mom encouraged me to push just a little further:

“Ask for an ultrasound.”

So I did.

What the scan showed

On April 11, 2016, I had an ultrasound of my neck. It was painful—but I didn’t think much of it. A few days later, I got a call from the clinic: "We need you to come in and review the results." The tone was calm, but something in me shifted.

At that point, I still thought it might be something minor—maybe muscle-related, or drainage.

But when I sat in the room and heard the words, “We found three nodules”—something cracked open in me.

The doctor reassured me: “It’s probably not serious. But let’s do a biopsy just in case.”

When I walked out of the office, I called Jeff. He didn’t answer right away. So I called my mom.That’s when I finally said it out loud for the first time:

“I might have cancer.”

My parents puppy I got to meet the day of my biopsy

The quiet Breakdown - the true beginning of my cancer journey

You might be wondering why this post lives on a photography site.

The truth is—this story is the reason I photograph the way I do.

It's why I believe in fleeting moments, and why your ordinary days matter more than you think.

Because I learned—through scans and prayers and unanswered questions—how quickly life can change. And how sacred it is to hold onto what we can keep.

If you’re walking through a season of waiting, of pain, or of invisible struggle—I see you.

And if I have the honor of photographing you, I promise to treat your story with care.

This is part one of a multi-part series. If you'd like to keep reading my journey through Medullary Thyroid Cancer and how it shaped the heart behind my business, you can follow along [here →]