When Andres Montero was a freshman at Penn State, he decided he wanted to become a vegetarian.

A kinesiology major, Montero decided he would be practical. Before he committed to cutting meat out of his diet, he decided to get blood work done to make sure the decision wouldn’t harm his body. He cut out of a family vacation early just to take a trip to the doctor during his winter break. Three days later, Montero was diagnosed with leukemia.

The doctors suspected Montero only had the disease for a few weeks and that they had caught it early. But that didn’t stop the fallout from his diagnosis. Just a month afterward, Montero’s doctors were discussing putting him into a medically-induced coma.

Montero’s story had a happy ending after he finished treatment in April 2022. Three years, a new hip, and another failed attempt at vegetarianism later, he said he feels as good as new. If you brainwashed him, Montero said, the only thing that would make him think he went through a health crisis is the scar across his left hip.

Ten months after his own battle with cancer finished, Montero wants to help those still fighting the disease. A three-year member of Eclipse, Montero will dance for the organization during THON 2024.

“I knew two years ago that I wanted to dance, just because it meant so much to me,” Montero said. “Now this year, that I’m finally healthy, I was like, ‘OK, let’s take the shot, and let’s go do it.'”

After he took one semester off from school after his diagnosis, Montero stayed on a close-to-normal academic track and lived a close-to-normal life. A redshirt senior, he’s taken between 12 and 15 credits each semester and works as a physical therapist, waking up early for 7:30 a.m. appointments even during the week before THON.

Montero feels he can show the THON families he’s working with that, as a cancer survivor, he’s lived a normal life since his remission.

“One of the cool things about being in Eclipse is that we have the [Family Relations] position. I applied and was chosen to basically go out there,” Montero said. “Me and the Reedys just clicked because now I have this perspective of what I went through and how similar it is to what they went through as a family. It was like I became almost like their second son.”

Montero said he has a special connection to Reedys’ son, Jeremiah, whom Montero fondly called “J-Man.” Still, J-Man wasn’t the reason Montero decided to dance.

Instead, Montero spoke about a child who he went through his cancer battle with. Because he was just over 18 years old at the time of the diagnosis, Montero was placed with children’s doctors instead of adult doctors, meaning he was also treated alongside other children. One of the children Montero was treated with didn’t survive his battle.

“When he passed away, there was this internal feeling within me to be like, I don’t want this to happen to someone else,” Montero said. “I became so dedicated to doing everything that I could do to try and help others.”

A day before Montero was set to hit the floor of the Bryce Jordan Center, he wasn’t concerned about the challenge of standing for 46 hours without a break. He’s been through enough in his life already, so hanging out in the BJC is hardly a challenge.

“Everything has basically put me in a position where I understand how low I can feel and then be able to bounce out from there,” Montero said. “If I can beat cancer, I feel like I can stand for 46 alongside everyone else.”