When I was 14 years old, I was a teenybopper. I loved boy bands—NSYNC and Backstreet Boys were huge at the time. I played soccer. I had a great group of family and friends. I’ve always been full of life. I was the energetic extrovert, always bouncing around. That summer before high school, in 2001, I went for a routine physical. The doctor pressed on my neck and felt a lump. He asked if I ever had night sweats, or any itching—a bunch of questions I didn’t understand the meaning of at the time.