“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.” —Theodore Roosevelt; Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910
Nestled in the suburbs of the DFW Metroplex, the Pletan family was living a happy, albeit crowded, life. Raising eight kids in a 1,500 square foot house, the family knew they needed more space. A search led them to Whitesboro, where in 2003 they moved onto five acres of land and gained a little elbow room – and a ninth child.
As the baby of the family, Jacob had a great childhood. Growing up in a household of nine children born in a 12-year span, the siblings were close. But beginning in 2015, one by one the Pletan children began moving away to attend college and start their own lives.
In December 2018, just a month after Jacob’s 15th birthday, everyone was traveling back home for a family Christmas in Whitesboro. Although he was excited for the holiday with his siblings, Jacob wasn’t feeling well. He’d been having significant back pain, which was keeping him from getting much sleep. He also had the feeling that the left side of his chest was growing out more than the right but figured this was somehow related to puberty.
His mom agreed that once the Christmas holiday was over, she would take him to the doctor.
A couple of weeks later, Jacob’s doctor performed some scans and ran some tests, then she called Jacob and his mom back into her private office. Her findings led to two possible diagnoses: Jacob’s symptoms were highly likely related to a really bad case of pneumonia. Or it could possibly be lymphoma.
Jacob remembers thinking at the time, “I had been working on ranches. I was six feet tall and bulletproof. I couldn’t possibly have cancer.”
Jacob’s mom sent him out to the car to wait while she finished talking with the doctor. There, he began learning about lymphoma – a blood cancer in the lymphatic system that affects the immune system, lymph nodes and white blood cells. It didn’t sound good.
The doctor sent them immediately to an imaging center for CT scans. Images revealed that there was an excessive amount of fluid in one of Jacob’s lungs, causing it to become 95% collapsed, and he had extremely high blood pressure.
Doctors weren’t even sure how Jacob was alive.
At that point, the hospital knew Jacob needed specialized care, so they had an ambulance transfer him to Children’s Medical Center Dallas. He was admitted and taken directly to the intensive care unit. There, doctors discovered a 5”x7” mass placing pressure on Jacob’s heart (causing the high blood pressure) and a case of mono (the reason for the fluid in his lung).
Doctors also confirmed that Jacob did in fact have lymphoma. He would be in the hospital for nine days while they determined the best course of action -- nine months of intense chemotherapy plus three years of maintenance.
“It was a very rocky time,” Jacob said. “All of my siblings who had just left after Christmas came right back home, and for the next three-and-a-half years, we just took things one day at a time.”
The first couple of months, Jacob slept a lot. His brothers shaved their heads in solidarity as Jacob began to lose his own hair, and every three to five days the Pletans traveled to Dallas so Jacob could have infusions.
About three months in, Jacob was at home reading a book on his bed when the words on the pages became blurry. He called his mom to tell her about it, but she found him to be completely incoherent on the phone.
They took him to Texoma Medical Center (TMC). By the time they pulled up to the hospital, Jacob couldn’t move his arms or legs – he had lost all physical function. TMC immediately transferred Jacob to Children’s Medical Center, where doctors identified two identical burned spots on the top of his brain.
Jacob was paralyzed for several days while doctors worked to understand what was happening to his body. They eventually determined that Jacob was experiencing methotrexate toxicity. Essentially, his brain had an allergic reaction to the chemotherapy which resulted in burning, thus impacting his neurological function.
They were able to treat the problem, but it would take time for Jacob to regain his strength. Five months into his cancer treatment, Jacob was so weak he couldn’t grip his socks to pull them up and didn’t have the dexterity to button his own shirt. He was uncoordinated and unmuscular, and still doing his best to fight a disease that was working against him.
In August (now eight months into his journey), Jacob came down with a fever. At the hospital, a myriad of doctors ultimately discovered Jacob had contracted aspergillus flavus, a fungal infection, in his airway.
At this point in his cancer treatment, Jacob had no immune system. White blood cells protect the body from infections by identifying and attacking bacteria and viruses. The average absolute neutrophil count (ANC) – a measurement of white blood cells -- is around 3,000-5,000. Jacob’s had been 500. Now it was zero.
He was admitted to the operating room where surgeons removed the fungus, but it quickly grew back. Doctors gave Jacob a white blood cell transfusion, but the cells were destroyed by the high levels of chemotherapy in his body. The fungus was growing faster than the doctors could remove it, and after a fourth trip to the operating room, doctors gave the Pletans the devastating news that Jacob only had 24-48 hours to live.
Jacob’s siblings came into town to spend what little time they had left with their baby brother. Preparing for the worst, his parents began planning his funeral.
And then, 24 hours later, ENTs told the family that the fungus had not progressed any further. This news had bought them time, and the doctors continued to give Jacob white blood cell transfusions and made ongoing attempts to remove the fungus which, miraculously, never made it to Jacob’s lungs.
After 28 days (25 of which were spent in isolation), Jacob was released from the hospital with a new lease on life.
He had battled cancer, paralysis and now a life-threatening fungus. While treatment got better and easier, the Pletans felt they were always waiting for the next catastrophe to strike.
Then, during spring break, a global pandemic changed everything for everyone.
“For better or worse, at that point, everyone was taking things one day at a time,” Jacob said.
Jacob’s therapy sessions and neurology studies (considered “non-essential”) were paused while offices remained closed. To get his mind off things, Jacob’s brother took him out to ride ATV’s near their home.
No one is sure exactly what happened, but Jacob’s ride ended in an accident that left him sprawled across the road with a fractured skull, a concussion and a traumatic brain injury. He was flown by helicopter to Children’s Medical Center where he began a slow recovery. It seemed Jacob and his family couldn’t catch a break.
But finally, on March 8, 2022, a relatively healthy Jacob got to ring the bell at his doctor’s office, signaling the completion of his cancer treatment.
With chemotherapy behind him, Jacob set a game plan for his future. He had aged out of the Children’s Medical Center system and his family didn’t have health insurance, so he knew he needed to gain employment to continue receiving the care he would need to maintain his health. After all, with treatment comes other issues.
Jacob still faces physical and neurological issues (he has no feeling in his hands or feet) and continues to have moments of forgetfulness due to “chemo brain” (when chemo breaks the blood/brain barrier and causes short circuits in the brain) and is slower in cognition.
The medication he was on throughout his treatment took a toll on his bones. He will need a double hip replacement, followed by a double knee replacement, all before he turns 30.
At 19, he graduated high school (his mom homeschooled all of her children) with dual credits in community college. He got a job and transferred all his medical care to UT Southwestern.
Last October, after five years of waiting, Jacob received news from his ninth oncologist that there is nothing more doctors can do for him.
The news was devastating, because Jacob still feels there is more healing to do. While attending 903 Therapy in Whitesboro, treating issues from things that happened to him five years ago, Jacob began asking himself, “Why am I doing this?” The answer he landed on was to regain function of life.
First, he had been diagnosed with cancer. Then the ensuing post-traumatic stress disorder from such a tumultuous five years. At 22 years old, Jacob wanted to have the last say in how he lived his life.
Feeling shattered with the news that his neurological and physical deficits were told to be untreatable (“Who was I if not the whole body that I was on Jan. 13, 2019, the day before I learned what ‘lymphoma’ meant?” he wondered), Jacob went on a run to see what he was made of.
“I had never run a mile before in my life. I had put all my confidence into my body being repaired like new, and after five years, that confidence turned null. Thus I felt compelled to inventory my body for both function and for mental clarity. So what would happen if I ran ‘til I couldn’t anymore, in order to put a metric to my abilities?” Jacob wrote in a diary entry.
After the run, he realized what was possible.
He signed up to run the 2025 BMW Dallas Marathon.
“The human body is capable of more than the human mind can think, and transversely the human mind is capable of more than the human body can do,” Jacob wrote in his diary. “By both of these superpowers working together, my limits have been proven how they can be pushed the wrong way by enduring cancer-killing treatment. And now I wish to memorialize the limits of what my body and brain can do for the positive this time… by putting one foot in front of the other 42,824 times, traversing 26.2 miles in a downtown my eyes have peered at through melancholy windows for over one-quarter of my life. Or to put it another way: by completing the Dallas Marathon. Mind over body, living a full life.”
Jacob bought a 30-week training plan and a book, which he finished with a sense of confidence that surprised even himself.
“I couldn’t believe it, but once I finished the book, I thought to myself, ‘Huh! This sucker’s going to be pretty easy.’ Because after all I’ve been through, how hard could it really be?” he said.
The plan has been simple – progress a mile a week. For the past 26 weeks, Jacob has been running the streets of Sherman (where he now lives) early in the mornings, sometimes listening to music, sometimes lost in his thoughts.
“My inspiration is my former self,” he said.
As it turns out, there are strong parallels between training for a marathon and receiving cancer treatment.
“You and you alone are responsible for the outcome,” he said. “Take whatever’s been thrown at you and live a full life.”
Some good has come from Jacob’s journey. During one of his earlier stints in the hospital, his mom saw a flyer on the wall looking for young models. The Pletans learned Children’s Hospital was looking for young fashion models for their upcoming Children’s Cancer Fund Gala fundraiser. On a whim, Jacob applied – and was selected. As a result, he had the honor of attending the gala (alongside football celebrity Roger Staubach), helping to raise money and presenting Children’s with a $1.3 million check raised through the event. He now serves as a public speaker for the organization.
He also applied (and was chosen) to be on a Youth/Young Adult Advisory Board for Children’s Medical Center. As such, for the past two years he has helped advise the executives of Children’s and UT Southwestern Hospitals on various matters. The latest is advising engineers and designers for a 2031 campus to be built in Dallas.
“They’ve built an entire model out of Styrofoam, from the building layout down to the chairs in the waiting rooms,” Jacob said. “We’ve been able to give input on what the layout and overall patient experience should be. This is without a doubt my proudest accomplishment with generational impact. Someday my nephews will be receiving care there, and I can say, ‘See that balcony? See that window? Uncle Jacob made that happen.’ It’s exciting to have that kind of impact.”
Jacob is ready to figure out what’s next for his life. While he wouldn’t wish his experience on anybody, he does hope to be able to use what he went through for a greater good.
“I want to prove to myself – and to others – that we’re capable to do whatever we want,” Jacob said.
On Dec. 14, Jacob will tackle his next big challenge – running 26.2 miles downtown through the city that helped to save his life. To keep track of Jacob’s journey and cheer him on, follow his Facebook page www.facebook.com/Jakesrace2025/ To donate or volunteer with Children’s Medical Center Dallas, visit www.childrens.com/get-involved