My Journey: Fighting Fires, Cancer, and Fear
On Feb. 1, 2025, I will celebrate 19 years as a proud member of the Chicago Fire Department. I am currently assigned to Engine 18 as an engineer/EMT, a firehouse recognized worldwide as the filming location for the show Chicago Fire.
Beyond my firefighting duties, I am a candidate and engineer instructor, a member of the Racial Equity Action Plan (REAP) for the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) team, and a board member for the Foreign Fire Insurance Board.
But my journey hasn’t been without challenges. On June 29, 2019, while working at the firehouse, a fire call came in for downtown Chicago. Upon arrival, I helped unload portable fans from our high-rise rig (6-4-16). Suddenly, I felt pain in my left shoulder. The pain worsened throughout the day, and by night, it became unbearable. I reported the issue to my officer and requested transport to the hospital for further observation.
At the hospital, X-rays were taken. The doctor suspected I had pulled a muscle and sent me home. By the next morning, the pain was gone, and I attended my son’s soccer game. Then, I received a life-changing phone call. In a calm tone, the doctor said: “I reviewed your X-ray. Your shoulder looks fine, but I noticed a mass near your left lung. You should see a specialist as soon as possible.”
My heart sank. My thoughts immediately turned to my two boys. Fighting back emotions, I told my wife, who wasted no time scheduling an appointment with our family doctor.
After further evaluations, a specialist confirmed the mass was likely in my left lung and the size of a lime. He presented sobering statistics: a 17% survival rate. First came a biopsy to confirm the diagnosis.
The side effects were tough — hair loss, pale skin, brain fog, nausea, and exhaustion. I even had to abandon my plans to study for the lieutenant promotion exam. My focus was simple: survive.
juan Covarrubias
On July 23, 2019, the biopsy was performed. Days later, the results came in. At the doctor’s office, my wife and I anxiously awaited the news. The doctor entered with a big smile: “Well, Mr. Covarrubias, if you’re going to fight cancer, let it be non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It’s highly treatable and curable, and our hospital has one of the nation’s best doctors for this.”
Relief washed over me. My wife cried tears of both fear and hope. But the hardest part was yet to come, telling my parents and my boys, “I have cancer.” When I told my parents, I tried to prepare them for every outcome — Plan A, where I’d recover, and Plan B, where they’d care for my family without me. My mother’s response was unwavering: “There is no Plan B, only Plan A. Your sons and wife need you. Accept what God has planned and move forward.”
In August 2019, I began six cycles of chemotherapy (DA-EPOCH-R). Each cycle involved a week in the hospital followed by three weeks at home to recover. The side effects were tough — hair loss, pale skin, brain fog, nausea, and exhaustion. I even had to abandon my plans to study for the lieutenant promotion exam. My focus was simple: survive.
On Nov. 19, 2019, I completed chemotherapy. A PET scan on Dec. 31 showed no signs of cancer. It was the best New Year’s Eve of my life.
In January 2020, I began 20 radiation sessions over four weeks. I had no major side effects, and by the end of treatment, I heard the words I prayed for: “You’re in remission.”
Cancer, COVID, and Civil Unrest
In March 2020, as the world faced the COVID-19 pandemic, I feared for my fragile immune system. Chicago went into lockdown on March 26, but four days later, I was cleared to return to work.
Although nervous about my physical readiness, I was eager to serve again. After retraining, I was offered a temporary position as an instructor at the Quinn Fire Academy. I accepted, determined not to let cancer or the pandemic define me.
However, on May 31, 2020, civil unrest erupted in Chicago. Instructors, including myself, were dispatched to support operations in the field. That night, I endured the scariest 14 hours of my career — dodging bricks, bottles, and even M-80 fireworks while responding to fires and making a hydrant. It tested every ounce of my resilience.
New Goals, New Battles
In 2021, as my body recovered, I set new goals. I enrolled in a master’s program at the University of Chicago and participated in the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s “Man and Woman of the Year” fundraiser. Alongside 12 other nominees, we raised over $900,000 for cancer research within 10 weeks during the pandemic.
By 2024, I graduated from the Chicago Latino Caucus Foundation’s Leadership Academy. I also returned to teaching at the academy. But then, another challenge emerged.
That August, I noticed a growing spot near my right eye. Months later, a biopsy confirmed it was basal cell carcinoma, a form of skin cancer. Although the surgery was successful, the emotional toll was heavy on me and my family. Still, I found strength in sharing my story and started a peer support group called, “Right to Fight Against Cancer.”
Moving Forward
To anyone battling cancer: You are not alone. Pray daily, keep your faith strong, and draw positive energy from your family. Walk, drink water, and believe in your resilience.
Let’s also advocate for change. Occupational cancer is on the rise, and fire fighters need protection – please contact your local politicians and ask for support against cancer. Together, we can make a difference. Godspeed!
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These IAFF member survivor stories were collected by the Firefighter Cancer Support Network for Fire Fighter Cancer Awareness Month in January.