It was during my flight to the 2021 Tour de France when I first started to feel bad. I had back and belly pain, feelings that weren’t common, and during the first two weeks of the Tour I’d wake up in the night with pain everywhere. I went for a scan on the second rest day in Andorra, and I found out that there were some black spots in my stomach and elsewhere in my body. I drove home to Milan and went straight to hospital. In early August it was confirmed that I had lymphoma. It was not a happy moment, of course, but the doctors told me it was treatable with a good possibility of success. I started treatment in September with chemotherapy and immunotherapy, and after three months I was already in remission. But that’s when the issues really started.
From April 2022 to January 2024, I was essentially positive for Covid the whole time, and I contracted pneumonia seven times, as well as other different viruses and bacteria which affected my body. My immune system was barely functioning. I was working a little bit, albeit mostly remotely, and secured the co-title sponsorship of Lidl, but in October 2023 things got really bad.
By December 2023, I weighed 58kg – I normally weigh 78kg – and all of my organs were locked up; none of them were working anymore. I couldn’t breathe independently so was on an oxygen mask 24/7, and my liver was so intoxicated from all the different medications that I was almost yellow like a Simpson. I had no muscles and wasn’t able to stand up because of all the cortisone and medications. I was allowed home for one week at Christmas, but it was more like, ‘Luca, this will be your last time with your family’.
To be clear, in December 2023 I was planning everything as if I wasn’t going to make it and I was struggling to look to the future. At that moment, it didn’t look like there would be any more treatment available, and the quality of life I had at the time – lying down on a bed for 40 days at a time followed by a week at home – was not pleasant for anyone. It was stressful, and my family were suffering way more. I have two adult kids aged 26 and 21, and seeing the sadness in their eyes hurt – but they were a reason to keep pushing, to keep fighting. When you see that love, you need to give love back.
I returned to hospital after Christmas – I spent 160 nights in hospital beds in 10 months – and some different treatments started to work a little bit and I could breathe by myself again, but I was affected by other strong viruses. The moment when I thought I really wasn’t going to make it was when the physiotherapist and two other doctors tried to help me stand up from the bed, and I still wasn’t able to. I had no muscles left, and my nerves weren’t working. That was a really dark moment. I was in a hospital ward where people were passing away, and when I saw my own body not reacting, I was thinking it was clear that I too didn’t have a lot of time left. I was not feeling the drama itself, but I knew of the pain being felt of the people around me. I didn’t want to leave my wife, kids, parents, family and friends, and that made me fight because I knew that there were so many people still hoping I’d stay around for a bit more time.
In February 2024 I was allowed to go home again, but I was still on a big tank of oxygen all day, and I was sleeping downstairs because I couldn’t walk up the stairs. Every day I’d try to walk 10 metres or two minutes more, and I said that because I hadn’t seen the team in the new kit since Lidl joined, I wanted to be at the start of Milan-Sanremo. It was a big motivation for me and I managed to make it to say hi to some friends. I was still on medication and it was a struggle, so I went home early, but then said I needed to be at a stage of both the Giro and the Tour. I watched a lot of races during my recovery, and having a men’s, women’s and development team who were winning lots of races really helped me. Now I’m back to normal, more or less.
Lymphoma is a chronic disease and essentially it’s on sleep right now – who knows how long for. It’s not pleasant to think every day that it can come back, but you have to live no matter what; I prefer to look forward rather than back. Today, I can cycle again, ride my bike for 80-90km, but the elasticity of my lungs is not the same which affects the amount of oxygen intake so I have to cycle with a very low heart rate. I miss the competitive element of riding with my friends, but if going slow is the bill to pay for being able to live, that’s a nice bill to pay.
What I’ve experienced has been quite dramatic, but I consider it part of life, it can happen – my story is the same as many others, and not any more dramatic. I don’t need charity because I have what I have. I’m lucky I am still here to tell this story, I don’t know how much longer I’ll have left, but that’s something we just need to cope with. My message I’d like to give is to fight every day – there is honour in the fight. Just keep going.
- Luca
You can read more from the In My Words series here.
Cover image courtesy of Lidl-Trek
