When I was 17 years old, I was diagnosed with high-risk acute lymphoblastic leukemia.
My white blood cell count was over 545,000, dangerously high, and I was rushed to the PICU for an emergency transfusion.
For a few hours, I gave up. I asked God to take me. But then I heard my mom crying by my bedside, and I knew I had to fight.
One of the first questions my doctor asked was, “Have you ever thought about having kids?”
He was trying to protect what little future I might have. The chemo I needed could leave me infertile, and freezing my sperm was an option. But at that point, I didn’t think I’d live long enough for it to matter. I said no.
After three years of intense treatment, I beat cancer. But every fertility test I took afterward said the same thing: There was a 99.9% chance I would never have children.
Then in 2019, I found out I was going to be a dad.
When I shared the news with my doctor, Dr. Gold at UNC Children’s Hospital in Chapel Hill, we both cried. He’s now my son’s godfather. Dr. Gold once told me: “When you overcome this, just live.”
That advice means even more to me now.
My son Raylen is my strength, my reason to take care of my body and mind, and the reason I share my story. Fatherhood changed everything. I was told I’d never have children as a result of my cancer treatment and now I have this incredible kid looking up to me as his role model. I just want to be worthy of him.
I’m more fortunate to have him as a son than he is to have me as a father. He’s what keeps me going, and probably the reason I’m still alive today.”
-Rashawn King
No 17-year-old should have to choose between surviving cancer and preserving their chance at having a family.
For too many young patients, that choice is still part of the reality of cancer treatment.
The St. Baldrick’s Foundation is working to change that by funding research that leads to safer and less toxic treatments. Treatments that don’t take away futures, fertility, or the chance to one day be called “Dad.”
A gift today helps move that research forward for kids still in treatment and for the lives they haven’t yet had the chance to imagine yet. Their next chapter starts with you.