It’s hard to capture the essence of my son Andrew. Every moment of his life was about living fully, embracing joy, and pursuing happiness.
He had a playful spirit, decorating his space with Pokémon and Legos. As a UPS driver, he was well-loved, often entertaining customers by playing with their dogs. To many, he was their best friend.
Despite his fun-loving nature, Andrew was very disciplined about his health. He maintained a mostly clean diet and kept up with dental visits, showcasing a remarkable attendance record in school. Being sick was rare for him.
So, when he called me in January 2025, mentioning a stomach ache that lingered for three days, I didn’t hesitate. I arranged for a visit to a gastroenterologist in our area. Andrew saw the doctor the very next day.
During the exam, the doctor identified something unusual and quickly ordered an emergency colonoscopy. After a snowstorm delayed things, we returned for the procedure days later. I thought it would be quick, but within ten minutes, I was summoned in. There was a blockage, preventing the scope from being inserted.
Not long after, we received the devastating news: Andrew had stage 4 colon cancer, which had already spread to his liver, lungs, and stomach lining.
That was the beginning of our nightmare.
The hardest decision I ever had to make
The scans revealed that the tumor was inoperable, and Andrew required chemotherapy and a colostomy, which creates an opening in the abdomen for waste collection.
As I processed this information, it felt as if my heart was being gripped tightly. I knew Andrew had Asperger’s, and I feared that if I focused on the negative aspects, he would too. So, I said, “Okay, we can get through this.”
Andrew took care of the paperwork for short-term disability. I later inquired about his prognosis, only to learn he had about a month to live without treatment but could extend it to six with treatment.
After he left, I called my mother. I broke down, unable to hold back my tears, saying, “I can’t believe my son is dying.”
Andrew worked right up until the day before his colostomy in February 2025. He was focused on handling his disability application correctly, worried about losing his job. His greatest wish was to resume work after defeating cancer.
The hospital stay that was supposed to last three to five days stretched to 48 due to complications. Andrew experienced fevers that were eventually linked to his cancer, not infections as initially thought.
With power of attorney, the doctor came to me and said, “Mom, you have a major decision ahead.” Without chemotherapy, Andrew had about three weeks. Starting treatment was risky; he was incredibly weak and might not even survive the night.
This was by far the hardest choice I’ve ever faced. I grappled with the thought of potentially regretting not trying for more time. I stayed by his side during the three-day treatment, unsure of what the outcome would be. Fear hung heavily, as I knew we could lose him at any moment. We filled those days watching various movies together.
He pulled through unexpectedly well. I thought, “Could we really overcome this?” Andrew was scheduled for his second round of chemotherapy a couple of weeks later.
Trying to stay positive
Over time, Andrew began to feel somewhat better. Though he could not work, he still managed outings with friends. Meanwhile, a new doctor encouraged me to explore clinical trials because he didn’t believe Andrew had long left.
The chemotherapy took a toll. His white blood cell count dropped too low for further treatment, and even with the colostomy bag, he struggled to go to the bathroom. Yet, he maintained a surprisingly positive demeanor.
By July 2025, he had lost significant weight, dropping to 140 pounds from 210. He eventually preferred to limit visits from friends and family, not wanting them to see how frail he had become.
The pain he endured was immense. He passed away on August 9, 2025.
In reflection, I often think, “Perhaps I shouldn’t have allowed him to suffer so long. We could have just let him go.” But then again, if I had done that, I might have regretted not fighting harder. Regardless, I find myself grappling with these regrets.
Witnessing his gradual decline was utterly heartbreaking.
I still wonder if we missed early symptoms
We were completely unaware that colon cancer was on the radar. Andrew was young, had no family history, and had no prior digestive issues except for that stomach ache. I believe there were signs along the way that he perhaps ignored or didn’t recognize.
Colon cancer is now the deadliest cancer for people under 50, but it’s also very treatable when detected early. I want younger individuals to understand the risks and get screened at the first sign of trouble—whether through colonoscopies or at-home tests.
People often find it difficult to talk about colon cancer due to its intimate nature, and I aspire to destigmatize these conversations.
I recently reopened Andrew’s Instagram account to share information about colon cancer. I posted a photo of him, stating, “I am 29 with Stage IV Colorectal Cancer in this picture and will be gone in four months.” The profile received over 400,000 views in a month.
Andrew faced an uphill battle without much chance of survival. My hope is that by spreading awareness, young people—and their parents—will recognize the seriousness of colon cancer.
Correction: An earlier version of the story misstated the timeline between Andrew Reaster’s diagnosis and his death. He was diagnosed in February 2025 and passed away six months later.
