In Todd Howard’s mind, he was invincible. Active in an array of water sports, he never thought he could be taken away from the glistening of the blue water. Then the invincibility was yanked from him 8212; at 19, he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. There was a tumor the size of a deck of cards in the right side of his body. Early in his second semester at TCU, Howard said a hard workout pulled the trigger on the unknown tumor. It was a coincidence that saved his life. “That day started the chain of events,” Howard said. On a Tuesday morning in late March, Howard woke to find that he could not get out of bed. Soreness in the right side of his body had turned into a sharp pain. Howard went to the emergency room at Harris Methodist Hospital. After a CT scan, doctors told Howard he should go see Dr. David Barrera, hematologist and oncologist at Texas Oncology in Fort Worth. When Howard told his mother about the biopsy, she said, he spoke with such ease that she knew he had no idea of what the doctor’s appointment would entail. “I didn’t think twice about it. They told me I was going to see an oncolo- gist,” Howard said. “My mom asked me, “Todd, do you know what that is?’ I didn’t, and she told me it was a cancer specialist 8212; that’s when I knew what it could lead to.” On April 5, Dr. Barrera told them the mass in Howard’s body was Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. After a moment of silence, Howard turned to his mother, Kayla Howard. “Mom, after all these years of being invincible, I have cancer.” Howard was scheduled to start che- motherapy the following Thursday, then undergo a 24-week treatment. Within the week, Howard flew home to Nebraska for another set of CT scans with a cancer specialist at the Univer- sity of Nebraska, Omaha, Medical Cen- ter. After a week of waiting, Howard and his parents got the results. “We were really worried,” his mother said. “But the doctor just assured us. He told us he had good news.” It was good news: Howard didn’t have Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. He had been misdiagnosed, but he did have a rare condition called Castleman’s Disease. “It was a big relief, but I still had a disease,” he said. “I never believed I had cancer, but it was like the train that hit us before was coming back and hitting us again. I was floored.” The tumor was embedded in the walls and muscle of his abdominal cav- ity. The operation would cut him from armpit to upper thigh, and the surgery would have a six-to-nine-month recov- ery process, immobilizing him. Though Howard’s disease is dormant and has had no significant growth, Howard has to get even a slight cold checked out. For the past year, Howard has been making trips back and forth from Omaha to monitor his tumor. “Usually when I go get a checkup it lasts a full day. I’m miserable after it,” Howard said. “I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life.” In the year since the misdiagnosis, Kayla Howard said she’s seen a change in her son. “He’s not invincible now, but there’s a certain smile about him,” she said. “He just doesn’t take it for granted.” Now 20, Howard hasn’t forgotten the experience. “You never know what’s going to happen to you,” Howard said. “I’m the luckiest person in the world. It’s like I’ve been given a second chance.”