Lung cancer can happen to anyone

[Sophia]

Lung cancer can happen to anyone. Cancer isn’t biased or prejudiced. It doesn’t care what you look like, your race, your religion, or anything else. Cancer is cancer, and it can affect anyone.

My name is Lauren Coye. I’m 25 years old. I love hiking, running, biking, art, music, and spending time with my dog and my family. When I was younger, all my friends—including my twin sister—outgrew their asthma. I never had asthma as a small child, but around age nine or ten I started struggling to breathe, especially during exercise. I began getting bronchitis and pneumonia multiple times each year, sometimes needing a full air-mask nebulizer and missing a lot of school.

As I grew into my teenage years and college, my breathing only got worse. Doctors kept giving me different inhalers and medications, but I kept getting infections, random fevers, and a constant wheeze that never went away. People even called me “wheezy,” and every breath sounded strained. That was hard because I loved sports and outdoor activities.

In sixth grade, routine bloodwork showed abnormal red and white blood cell counts. I was sent from one hospital to another and told I might have leukemia, but I was sent home that night and no one followed up. In 2021 I began to realize it wasn’t asthma. I told my parents and doctors the inhalers weren’t working. I kept getting bronchitis, antibiotics, then more infections. I also had leg pain for years, which I thought was something minor. Breathing didn’t hurt as much as it felt like constant tightness, like something was squeezing me.

I had always been a strong swimmer, but one day in 2021 I jumped into a lake and immediately started drowning. I couldn’t breathe and almost blacked out. After that, I kept getting sicker. I thought it was because I worked with kids and caught germs, but the cycle continued—bronchitis, sinus infections, pneumonia, upper respiratory infections, four rounds of antibiotics, and constant fevers.

In November 2021 I was at work shaking despite wearing layers and a sleeping bag. I drove myself to the emergency room with a 104-degree fever. They ran tests and did a chest X-ray that showed a collapsed lung. Doctors said it was probably a mucus plug or scar tissue and would go away. But I had already been extremely sick for three months, and I felt certain something was seriously wrong. I kept saying I thought I had lung cancer.

My mom insisted we wouldn’t leave without scheduling a CAT scan. A month later they did it. They told me to wait until Tuesday for results, but before I even got home they called and said I had a tumor and needed a specialist immediately. The earliest appointment they offered was five months away. The next Monday I called my insurance company and asked for a list of every specialist in the area. They sent four pages of names. My mom and I called every number. Only one place answered and got me in within two days.

By then my lungs had been collapsed for months. I had told my primary doctor many times that I thought it might be lung cancer, but he said I was too young and didn’t smoke. Later he apologized. Even my oncologist said there was no clear explanation. It wasn’t genetic. I didn’t have known mutations. I never lived with smokers. You know your body better than anyone, and sometimes you have to push for answers. Hospitals want to help many patients quickly, but if you need help, you have to advocate for yourself.

My first CAT scan that found the tumor was on December 17. I saw a specialist on December 28. Before even greeting me, he asked if I’d eaten breakfast. When I said yes, he said if I hadn’t, he would have taken me straight into emergency bronchoscopy because the tumor needed to come out immediately. On January 6 they performed a bronchoscopy and removed most of it, enough to reopen my airway. The procedure took about 45 minutes.

On January 10 I was at work with preschoolers when I got an email from the hospital saying my tumor tested positive for bronchial and lung cancer. It was a CD56-positive neuroendocrine tumor that had likely been growing for about 12 years, which explained why my “asthma” kept worsening. Doctors said it was slow-growing and called it a “good” type, which felt strange to hear. I cried with my mom for a few minutes, then decided we needed to focus on what to do next.

The plan was surgery. At first they thought they’d remove about two inches of lung, but after surgical consultations they warned they might need to remove the entire lower right lobe. I went into surgery on March 15 and woke up missing both my lower and middle right lobes because the tumor had spread further than expected. The procedure was done robotically through small incisions between my ribs. They removed the lung tissue, placed a chest tube, stitched me up, and I began recovery with medications and rest.

I forced myself to get up and walk to the nurses’ station and down the hall because I wanted to return to normal life as soon as possible. I had two months of medical leave and used that time to slowly increase my walking distance, starting with about a quarter mile. My remaining lung tissue gradually expanded into the empty space. My age and previous fitness helped my recovery. Doctors expected me to stay in the hospital a week, but I went home after two days because I was progressing well. I made myself walk at least five times a day. Less than two months after surgery, I ran a 5K and won.

I still have pain around my scars and nerves, which doctors say is normal at my age because nerve cells are more active. Cold and flu season scares me, and I still wear a mask in crowded places. I was diagnosed during the pandemic years, which made everything more frightening, especially attending appointments alone due to restrictions. I’m still processing it all. Sometimes I touch my scars and feel startled. Cancer is on my mind every day. Some thoughts are fearful, others proud—like finishing a half marathon after being told I might never run again.

I currently have no signs of cancer. My scans went from every three months to every six months and now once a year. On scan days I take the whole day off, schedule the appointment early, and then treat myself afterward so the day feels positive instead of stressful.

One thing I’ve learned from the lung cancer community is that anyone with lungs can get lung cancer. It doesn’t matter if you smoke or live a healthy lifestyle. When people hear I had lung cancer, they often ask who in my family smoked. No one has. Among about 50 people I’ve met with lung cancer, only one was a smoker. It’s increasing among young people, especially women, and it causes more deaths each year than breast, prostate, and colon cancers combined.

I’ve spoken at schools to explain it’s not just a smoker’s disease. Everyone’s story is different. I still struggle daily, but I try to use my story to help others. I run and hike for people who can’t and for friends who didn’t survive. Doctors can list things you can’t do, but you know your body. If you feel you can safely try something, try. Push a little each day.

It’s okay to fail. It’s okay to cry. Having cancer is terrible, and you can’t change that fact. But there is still so much you can choose to do with that reality, including turning it into something positive.

[Deep]

Lauren, your strength is extraordinary. Thank you for sharing your story and reminding us that lung cancer can affect anyone. Your resilience, advocacy, and determination to keep running and inspiring others are powerful. Wishing you continued healing, strength, and many healthy miles ahead.

[Kenny]

Lauren, your resilience at just 25 is extraordinary. Fighting for answers, enduring major lung surgery, and returning to running shows incredible determination. Thank you for challenging stigma and reminding everyone that lung cancer isn’t limited to smokers. Your advocacy, honesty, and courage will empower others to trust their instincts and seek timely care.

[Amul]

Your courage proves lung cancer isn’t defined by age or lifestyle.