My First Nivolumab Infusion: A Milestone in My Fight

February 22, 2025

Knots as a Leadership Lesson

The Insurance Saga Before Nivolumab

Earlier this week, I found myself in a frustrating limbo—no clear timeline on when I’d receive my Nivolumab infusion. We had been fighting to get this treatment approved, but each day that went by without it felt like an eternity. Every phone call with the insurance company added another layer of stress. At one point, we were informed that despite the fact I was already receiving chemotherapy at one medical office, the insurance would only approve Nivolumab if I got it at a different location—one that’s 10 miles farther away. Incredibly, this alternate location is still part of the same medical group, so it made no sense to drive past one building to sit in another.

(Just an aside comment for people that don’t live in the DC area, that specific 10 mile drive can average 1 to 1.5 extra hours on the road, on a good day; that’s why I’m annoyed.)

Maria and I tried to apply logic to the situation—explain that convenience matters a great deal when you’re already dealing with the physical and emotional toll of cancer treatments and that it shouldn’t require an extra layer of complexity. But, as it so often goes with red tape, our reasoning fell on deaf ears. Eventually, we hit a point where we just wanted to get the treatment done. If driving an extra 10 miles was the only way to move forward, so be it. We’ll drive. But I still can’t understand the insurance company’s thought process. It’s hard enough battling cancer without having to battle bureaucracy, too.

Despite the aggravation, I’m immensely relieved that Nivolumab was finally approved and that I can start reaping its benefits. Even though this roadblock set me back a bit, I’m choosing to focus on the bigger picture: I’ve got a powerful new tool to help fight Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

Thursday was a day I’d been eagerly waiting for—both excited and a bit anxious. I finally received my first dose of Nivolumab, the immunotherapy drug we fought so hard to get. It wasn’t just another scheduled treatment; it felt like a real breakthrough, a pivotal step forward in my battle against Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

From now on, Nivolumab will be given alongside my usual chemotherapy. For those curious, Nivolumab is an immune checkpoint inhibitor that essentially trains my immune system to seek out and destroy any cancer cells that chemo might miss. I’m on the N+AVD regimen—Nivolumab, Adriamycin (doxorubicin), Vinblastine, and Dacarbazine. While the chemo drugs do the heavy lifting, Nivolumab adds extra firepower by boosting my body’s natural defenses. The hope is that this combo not only tackles the cancer head-on but also lowers the risk of it coming back down the road.

Processing It All
Friday was my last hydration day for the week, and I was already feeling pretty sore. The aches settled by Saturday morning, but I still made it to Hayfield to set up Zoom rooms for the University of Scouting. It was heartwarming to see old friends—but also bittersweet not to be able to hug them or chat too closely. Now isn’t the time for me to risk catching anything. Still, feeling the warmth of everyone’s smiles and enthusiasm from a safe distance was terrific—a super big shout out to Sanjay and Daniel, who moderated the Cub Scout Zoom training sessions.

One of the things I’ve always found incredible about scouting is the profound, far-reaching impact that its training can have, often in ways we’ll never fully witness. When we spend a weekend teaching skills or sharing experiences, we’re planting seeds of leadership, resilience, and service that can blossom far beyond our personal view. Who knows how many young Scouts will carry these lessons into their own lives, influence their communities, and ultimately become role models for others? Today, my friends and fellow Scout leaders provided classroom instructions to over 700 Scout leaders!

It’s humbling and inspiring to think that something as simple as showing a Scout how to navigate a trail or tie a knot might one day spark a lifelong commitment to adventure or problem-solving. Or that a moment of mentorship—just taking the time to listen and encourage—could be the push they need to become the kind of leader who changes someone else’s life down the road. We may never see precisely how these ripples play out or realize our small part in helping them. But that’s okay. In a sense, that mystery is part of the magic. It reminds me that the best service is done with a selfless heart, trusting that good will come of it—even if we’re not there to see the final results.

Meanwhile, my friends continue to shower me with thoughtful messages, uplifting notes, and little care packages that remind me I’m far from alone in this journey. No matter how small, every gesture feels like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

The few moments I spent at the University of Scouting took a toll on me physically. I felt pain and tiredness as I walked out of the building and back to the car. My body is telling me to slow the “f” down. But I need some physical activity to stay healthy, so we push through it and suck it.

Looking Ahead
Next week, I get an “off week” from chemo and treatment—a small but welcome break that lets my body heal up a bit before continuing this fight. I plan to use that time to return to the office, as it’s our first official day of returning to in-person work. I’m excited (and a little nervous) to reconnect with colleagues and reclaim a sense of normalcy, even if it’s just for a short while. Of course, I’ll be cautious, but it feels good to think about a day that doesn’t revolve solely around doctors’ appointments and infusions.

Securing Nivolumab was no small victory, and I’m grateful every day to have it in my corner—alongside an incredible support network of family, friends, and medical professionals. One infusion down, many more to come. For now, I’m taking it one day at a time, holding on to the progress I’ve made and hoping that each new step brings me closer to remission.

Thank you all for continuing to root for Team Cooper. We are truly blessed to have so many friends and family members who offer supportive words and actions.