It was 2016. Justin Birckbichler was 25 years old. He taught fourth grade by day and had recently completed a Spartan race. He was, like many 25-year-old men, fit and healthy to the point that he hadn’t been to the doctor in years.

And then, during a routine testicular self-exam, he found a lump.

I know what you’re thinking: If this 25-year-old was so fit he wasn’t seeing doctors, why was he doing a testicular self-exam?

“I was lucky,” Justin said. Growing up, his pediatrician had explained that testicular cancer is one of the few cancers that affects mostly younger men and had instilled in Justin the importance of monthly self exams.

“Honestly, that was the only thing I did for my health for a long time,” he said.

When he found the lump, he had to scramble to find a primary care provider – he was between health insurance at the time and had to wait for new coverage to kick in. When it did, he got an appointment as fast as he could.

The doctor did an exam and confirmed that there was a mass, then sent Justin in for an ultrasound. After that procedure, they confirmed that there were “areas of concern” and referred Justin to a urologist.

When Justin saw the urologist, he didn’t pull any punches.

“I’m going to be straight with you,” the urologist said when Justin walked in. “You have testicular cancer.”

For a beat, Justin was hit with relief: finally. A clear diagnosis.

And then almost right after, he went numb. Oh no, he thought. I have cancer.

And with that thought, a whole new world of anxiety opened up: what would the rest of his life look like?

When Justin tuned back into his current reality, the urologist was explaining that testicular cancer is very aggressive.

“We’ll want to get you into surgery as soon as possible,” he said.

“How soon are we talking?” said Justin.

“Tomorrow,” said the urologist. “If you can.”

Justin didn’t think he could get coverage for his fourth-grade class on 12 hours’ notice. But a few phone calls later, he was scheduled for surgery the following day – two days after the urologist’s diagnosis.

(More on talking to your employer about your diagnosis.)

Onto the Vast Unknown of Chemo

Justin’s surgery was successful, and the biopsy confirmed that the mass was indeed cancerous. During the standard CAT scans, though, Justin’s providers found that the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes. He was scheduled to start chemo a month later, the Monday after Thanksgiving.

He went home from surgery determined to learn all he could about chemo, but he was unable to find any patient-friendly resources. There was plenty of information about chemo, but none of it was written for guys like him, who wanted someone to explain the basics: what was a “round of chemo”? What would it feel like? What could he expect over the next nine weeks?

He took to journaling about his experience, in part to process the emotional ups and downs of going from a perfectly healthy person to someone battling testicular cancer in a matter of days.

He was venting to a friend one day, and she made a suggestion that would change the course of his life: instead of complaining about the lack of resources online, why not publish your journal as a blog? Be the resource you wish you had.

Justin had to admit it was a good idea.

And so his blog, A Ballsy Sense of Tumor, began.

A Mission Is Born: Get Men Talking About Their Health

As Justin wrote more and more, he saw that his readers could benefit from hearing more stories than just his.

“Guys don’t talk about their health much,” he said. “I wanted to get some conversations going.”

So, in addition to chronicling his journey through chemo and beyond, he interviewed other people in his life – his friends and loved ones – and started inviting other testicular cancer survivors to tell their stories.

In January 2017, he wrote about finishing chemo treatments.

In March 2017, he got to write that he was in remission.

And in March 2022, he got to post the update he’d been hoping for since that first doctor’s visit: he no longer needed to stay in touch with his oncologist. He was cancer-free and cleared to go back to primary care.

While Justin hasn’t published much since then, the blog remains a wealth of information for anyone going through or caring for someone with testicular cancer.

The “before” section focuses on what it’s like to get a cancer diagnosis, go through chemotherapy, and try to get back to “normal.” The “after” part is about survivorship and what that means.

“Especially with testicular cancer, where you’re in the prime of your life when you get diagnosed,” said Justin, “there are some serious mental health ramifications.”

The blog blends humor with the more serious tone befitting mental health discussions.

Life After Cancer & Tips for Others Facing a Testicular Cancer Diagnosis

Nine months ago, Justin became a birth father. He has one son by marriage and now a daughter conceived after his cancer journey. “My family’s the most important thing to me now,” he said.

He added that there are two things he underscores for anyone who’s been touched by testicular cancer:

“Find support wherever you can find it, in whatever capacity,” he said. (If you’re looking for support, check out our weekly online meetups and read about our annual Summit in Las Vegas.)

The second tip: “Pay it forward. Make sure you’re sharing your experience so fewer guys have to go through this by themselves.”

One way Justin has paid it forward – besides his blog – is in a career shift. He left teaching and now works as the Director of Operations at a health advocacy organization.

“I should probably update everyone that our daughter was born,” he said. But he also admitted that it’s been nice to be able to neglect the blog – it’s been nice to not have cancer be the focal point of his life.

Interested in telling your survivor story on our website? We’d love to hear from you – get in touch.