Alejandro (Alex) Valdez: Understanding the Importance of Representation in Research

Alejandro (Alex), born and raised in Los Angeles, California, is a father to two young boys and a devoted partner to Jeanette. His life before cancer revolved around family, work, and managing a chronic inflammatory bowel disease called ulcerative colitis, which he had lived with for almost two decades. Although Alex underwent yearly colonoscopies because of ulcerative colitis, cancer was never something he expected.

In October 2024, the routine screening had an unexpected result. His doctor found abnormal cells that could become cancerous and suggested further testing. After seeking additional opinions and a second colonoscopy in December, his doctor recommended removing his colon. The decision was overwhelming, especially as a young father. “It was scary,” Alex said. “But we agreed with the doctors and went ahead with the surgery.”

In March 2025, Alex underwent a 5-hour surgery to remove his colon. Surgeons also created a temporary ileostomy—an opening that redirects waste into an external bag—with the expectation that it could be reversed once he had recovered. The day after surgery, while dealing with blood clots in both legs, pathology results arrived.

The surgeons had found a 6-centimeter tumor, and results showed that Alex had stage II colorectal cancer. “After I heard the word cancer, I really didn’t comprehend anything else the doctor was saying,” Alex said. “The biggest thing that I felt was fear.”

At just 38 years old, the diagnosis placed Alex among a growing number of young adults facing early-onset cancer, which is cancer occurring in people ages 18 to 49. In early-onset colorectal cancer, symptoms are often overlooked or attributed to other conditions. Although his tumor had likely been developing for one and a half to two years, it had gone undetected.

Alex’s treatment included 6 months of intensive chemotherapy with oxaliplatin and 5-fluorouracil, though severe side effects forced him to miss his final two sessions. He experienced exhaustion, neuropathy, nausea, and brain fog, making it impossible to continue working and difficult to maintain daily routines. “Chemotherapy was probably the worst part of this cancer journey,” he said.

At the same time, he was trying to remain present for his children, who were too young to fully understand what was happening. “I had to tell them, ‘Daddy is sick, Daddy needs to rest,’” he explained. “But just because I’m doing treatment doesn’t mean I get to take time off from being a father.” One day, connected to his take-home chemotherapy port and wearing his ileostomy bag, he went to the park so his younger son could have dad push him on the swing.

Alex leaned on his family for strength—his partner Jeanette, whom he calls his guardian angel, and his brothers, who took turns sitting with him through chemotherapy on Mondays. “If it wasn’t for my family and friends,” he said, “I don’t know if I could have got through it.”

A defining aspect of Alex’s cancer journey was his participation in the ENLACE study, a research initiative focused on understanding the genetic and environmental factors influencing colorectal cancer risk in Hispanic individuals. Introduced to the study on the first day he met his oncologist, Alex found the ENLACE team a consistent presence throughout his care—appearing at chemotherapy sessions, CT scans, and blood draws for genetic testing, and connecting him with counselors to help navigate what the results might mean for his family.

For Alex, the experience was deeply personal. Seeing researchers and care teams who shared similar cultural backgrounds made a meaningful difference during treatment. “They looked like me. They talked like me. They were from the same places that I was from. It was just really helpful,” he said. The study ultimately found that his cancer was not inherited, providing some relief—though his son will still need to be checked at age 18 as a precaution.

Today, Alex has completed chemotherapy, undergone reversal of his ileostomy, and returned to work. He continues to receive regular scans every 90 days. “Scanxiety is real, and all the bad thoughts come back when I’m in that CT room,” he said. Even so, he remains focused on the future. A fellow patient once asked him during treatment: “Everybody that loves their family would die for their family, but would you live for your family?” “That really hit home for me,” Alex said. “I’m living for my family.”

His message to policymakers and researchers is clear: “Please be compassionate and understand what this disease does to people. It’s really important that we continue genetic testing, early screenings, and funding research because at the end of the day, it’s about saving lives.”