“I found out I had cancer on my 24th birthday.

A CT scan had found a mass, so I went in for an ultrasound. I can confidently say that is not how I pictured celebrating. I was lying there trying to stay calm when the technician asked me, very casually, I might add, ‘So when did you get your cancer diagnosis?’

I hadn’t gotten one. At least not officially. But in that moment, it became obvious that my life was about to change. The spring semester had started about a week earlier, so while I was processing a cancer diagnosis, I was also trying to keep up with classes, assignments and deadlines—because, as I learned the hard way, Canvas does not have a ‘medical existential crisis’ extension button.

I kept going. I would go to class, then go straight to an appointment with my oncologist. I had surgery and was out of school for two weeks, but I still did the readings. I still turned in assignments on time. I even took a test over Zoom while recovering.

It all felt surreal, mostly because the world kept moving like normal. I was walking around campus carrying something so incredibly heavy, and everything around me looked exactly the same.

Before all of this, I had served in the Air Force as a public affairs specialist. When I left that job, I had loved it so much that I wanted to continue that type of work. So, I enrolled at the U to pursue a degree in strategic communication.

In a lot of ways, the material in my degree was the opposite of everything that you’re taught when you’re in the military. At the Defense Information School, where all public affairs specialists have to go, you’re taught to speak very positively, and we had very strict regulations about the kinds of things we were allowed to share. You were hardly allowed to edit photos at all. You definitely couldn’t get rid of anyone in the background, because everything is seen as historical documentation. Coming into my program, it was interesting just learning about the ways that it is on the civilian side.

My capstone course was really impactful. We had to build an entire campaign for a place of our choosing. We chose the Bountiful Davis Art Center, where I had actually interned. It was really interesting seeing all of the work and the analytical side of things that go into public relations. We didn’t really dabble in the analytics when we were in the military, so that was very insightful.

But it was the cancer that taught me the most important lesson.

I learned that gratitude and grief can exist at the same time. I could be thankful and still feel like it was unfair. I could know I was going to be OK and still be angry that, at 24 years old, I had to hear the words, ‘You have cancer.’

To make it through that semester, I had to compartmentalize. I had to let myself be a patient in one moment and a student in the next. I had to learn how to carry fear without letting it make every decision for me.

I learned that no one can care about my education more than I do. Not my professors. Not the disability center. Not my doctors. Not even the people who love me most. They can support me. They can help me. They can give me grace. But they cannot want my future for me. That part is mine.

I’ve had quite an interesting life for a 25-year-old, and a lot of things have happened. The cancer was just kind of the cherry on top of the cake. But what I’m taking away is that I am a strong person and I can do things that I set my mind to, regardless of the situation at hand. I know that I can keep moving forward even when life gets hard, unfair or inconvenient.”

— Isabelle Gulyamov, Class of 2026, B.S. in Strategic Communication, College of Humanities, from Leavenworth, Kansas.