Recipient #1 David Stewart
My story starts back in 2020. I had hernia surgery in July of 2020. After recovering from surgery I had an increasing discomfort in my back and abdomen. The discomfort would come and go. I went to the doctor numerous times to make sure there were no surgery complications, all testing and blood work came back normal. They put me on a fiber regimen which seemed to help for a while…until it didn’t. After dealing with increasing discomfort and no answers, I finally went to the ER with severe back pain. The ER listened to my issues and immediately ordered a CT scan where they found an “apple core” tumor in my sigmoid colon and which point they recommended I follow up with gastroenterologist and have a colonoscopy because that type of tumor is almost always cancerous. I went home scared to death and still only had some of the answers I needed. Thankfully we have a family friend who is a general surgeon that was able to get us in immediately for a colonoscopy. I went to the ER on a Tuesday, seen by the surgeon for a consult on Wednesday, prepped for a colonoscopy on Thursday, and had the colonoscopy on Friday. When I say we are thankful for miracles, the quickness in which everything happened was definitely one of them. After the colonoscopy the surgeon came out and diagnosed me with Stage 4 Colon Cancer. Not only did I have a large tumor in my colon but also an area in my liver and a small area in my lung. Surgery was scheduled for the next week. Surgery went well, I spent a few days in the hospital and headed home to recover and start what I thought might be some “clean up” chemotherapy and I would be on the road to recovery. Boy was I wrong! 1 week after surgery I was rushed to the ER and was admitted to ICU with sepsis. I spent 1 week in ICU where they had to place multiple drain lines to drain the infection from my body. After a week long hospital stay, tons of antibiotics, and multiple drain lines, I was finally able to go back home and recover. After a few weeks I had recovered enough to hopefully start chemotherapy, I went to the oncologist and she told me that if she started chemotherapy before all of the infection was gone, it could be detrimental. She recommended that I see an Infectious Diseases doctor and have daily antibiotics to make sure all of the infection was gone. It took 4 months of daily antibiotic infusions to finally rid my body of all of the infection. I spent a little over an hour a day every single day for 4 months…weekends, week days, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s…getting an IV infusion. FINALLY after 4 months the infection was clear and we started chemotherapy. Twelve total treatments over a six month period. On the last day, I rang the bell and I was so excited that I had made it through and I was DONE, or so I thought. My “final” CT scan came back and there were still 2 areas of concern. My oncologist said we should see if radiation was an option. So I went to the radiation oncologist, he needed a PET scan to confirm if the areas were definitely malignant. When the PET scan came back my life changed forever. There were multiple areas in my abdomen, my lymph nodes, and an area in my lung, in the six weeks between ringing the bell and having a PET scan my cancer had spread. I then received the news that I would now be a “chemo for life patient”. My cancer had become metastatic and could no longer be cured. I immediately started another chemotherapy that I continued for 6 months until it stopped working. My cancer started growing again and that’s when my pain began. My oncologist recommended radiation again to help with my discomfort, so I just recently completed 30 rounds of radiation treatment and will begin chemotherapy again after the holidays. My pain continues to worsen and the days are harder now than they used to be. But I continue to fight the good fight and I’ve made peace with the fact that chemotherapy is now apart of my everyday life. Most days I don’t want to be there but thankfully I have wonderful nurses and staff that continue to get me through it, brighten my spirits, and keep me company. I’m thankful for all of the angels on earth that continue to help, support, and bless our family. More than anything I’m thankful for my wife and my family, who have been through every up, down, twist, and turn that this cancer rollercoaster has taken us on.
Please mark your calendars & make plans to join us on Saturday, February 1,2025, where we’ll be supporting David & our other 7 chosen recipients for Cancer Freeze 2025. Most of all, we covet your prayers for them all.
Recipient #2 Dawn Morgan
My name is Dawn Morgan, age 60, and a DeFuniak Springs resident for 30 plus years. I have been fighting the hardest battle of my life for a little over a year. The end of July 2023 I noticed swelling in both feet that was not going away. Routine bloodwork came back with a dangerously elevated ALT – Liver Enzyme Level. I immediately thought something was wrong either with my kidneys or liver.
I foolishly let this go on for a couple of months, thinking the swelling would subside. After all, I thought I am doing all the right things – I exercise and eat right. Unfortunately, that is not what occurred. The swelling got worse, progressing up my legs. After consulting with a couple of nursing instructors at ECTC where I teach Adult Education, and a friend who is a doctor, they all encouraged me to go straight to the Emergency room. Best advice I could have gotten.
In September 2023 I went to the Emergency Room at Gulf Coast Hospital in Panama City. After running several scans they located a cyst on my left Adrenal Gland, measuring 5cm. I was scheduled to see an Endocrinologist the very next day. He was not concerned, saying that 95% of all Adrenal Adenomas were benign, but because of its size should be removed.
I met with the Urologist that was to preform the surgery, removing the cyst along with my left Adrenal Gland robotically. Because everyone was still assuming the cyst was benign, I was not able to get a surgery date until December. In the meantime, I admitted myself in the hospital twice trying to get some relief from the swelling which had progressed to over 30lbs of water weight in my legs alone.
By the time the surgery occurred, the cyst had grown to just over 8cm, and when biopsied came back malignant. Even though the Urologist was convinced he removed everything, radiation was still recommended. The Radiology Oncologist was honest in letting me know that because of the extreme rarity of Adrenal Cortical Carcinoma (ACC), he had never dealt with it and was unsure of the number of treatments needed. After consulting with other oncologists, they decided on 32 rounds. When I rang that bell at the end, I assumed my cancer journey was over. That was not to be. My follow-up PET scan 3 months later once again lit up.
This time, because I had recently been through radiation and presumably had scar tissue robotic surgery was not an option, and I was referred to Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville.
After meeting with both surgical and medical oncologists, I was put on chemo pills specific for ACC and scheduled for surgery. No waiting around this time.
Initially they spoke of removing my left kidney, spleen, a portion of my pancreas, and cancerous nodules. However, because of the amount of blood loss, over 4L, and the length of surgery, 4.5 hours, they only removed my kidney and cancerous nodules they could safely see. The amount of scar tissue I had from radiation made the task more difficult.
Because they felt they were unable to remove all the cancerous nodules, later confirmed by a CT scan, I was scheduled to begin chemotherapy. The first week of November, I completed my first round – three days in a row with an injection to boost my white blood cell count on the fourth. I am set up for four cycles every 28 days. They did tell me that with this type of cancer, even if the surgery had been perfect there is a 50-70% chance of recurrence. One day at a time, I will continue to fight!!
There is a song I listen to everyday by Jelly Roll – I Am Not Okay. I feel as though it could have been written for me. The words, “I am not okay, but it’s all gonna be alright – It’s not okay, but we’re all gonna be alright,” really hits home.
I want to give a huge thank you to all that have supported and prayed for me. Cannot express enough what you have meant and continue to mean to me!!
*Remember to mark your calendars & make plans to join us on Saturday, February 1, 2025, at Lake Jackson in Florala,Al, where we’ll be “Freezin” for Dawn & our other 7 recipients. Please keep them all in your thoughts & prayers.
Recipient #3 Amy Hicks
My name is Amy Hicks; I live in Defuniak Springs, Fl, with my husband, Robert. Our large family includes Lindsey, her husband Christian, and our first grandson. Our son Austin and his girlfriend Rosie. Our daughter Ashlyn, her fiancé, Jimmy, and our youngest daughter Emily.
My cancer story might be familiar to anyone who has walked in my shoes, but I honestly was not prepared emotionally, spiritually, and financially for the ugly “C” word.
I have been healthy and active most of my life, but that changed last January. I felt tired all the time, and I began to notice a spot on my breast that would come and go.
I went to the dermatologist, and the doctor biopsied the spot. A few weeks later, the doctor called and told me that I had Paget’s disease of the breast, a rare type of cancer. Only 1 to 3% of breast cancer is Paget’s disease. It’s so rare that most doctors won’t see a case of it in their careers. I didn’t want to believe what I was hearing was true. I hung up the phone, and my husband held me. We cried together. We called my in-laws. My parents rushed home from their vacation to hug me( they did this more than once this year). We told our children, and I promised them I would be there for them, and they promised they would be there for me. I had to become my own advocate. I would wake up every morning and spend hours on the phone with Bluecross, doctors’ offices, and hospitals about getting authorizations for needed procedures. Our insurance policy is costly and not ideal if you have cancer. I needed a referral from my primary doctor for any procedure I would need. Thankfully, I have a primary Doctor who is an angel in disguise. Brittany Mosley and her nurses and staff at White Wilson’s here in Defuniak helped in any way they could and mean more to me than they will ever know.
Finally, in March, after months of fighting, my insurance approved me to see a breast surgeon, Dr. Moody, in Panama City. We discussed my options, and she told me it would be best for me to have a double mastectomy. I cried in her office. I was not emotionally ready to lose both of my breasts, but I also agreed it was the right thing to do. After my doctor’s appointment, my husband and I walked on the beach; we talked about the future and decided to be strong no matter what because I had so much to fight for! Unfortunately, because of my insurance, things moved a lot slower for me to get the healthcare I needed. The cancer had begun taking over my life. I had to share my birthday and Mother’s Day with breast cancer. I was starting to feel depressed, defeated, and angry. I was tired of sharing my life with the cancer! Thankfully, I had a lot of support from family and friends. My mom and mother-in-law were my full-time therapists.
At the beginning of May, I noticed the spot on my breast was getting worse and not going away, and my body was starting to feel even more weak. I went to see my breast surgeon and cried in the chair; I told her I was tired of fighting. We both decided on May 24th that I would have a double mastectomy no matter what! I paid a separate doctor out of my pocket to help start the reconstructive surgery. I figured I would fight my insurance company after I got the cancer out.
On May 24th, I had a double mastectomy and went home that same day. The double mastectomy took an emotional and physical toll on me. It was the worst pain I had ever felt, mentally and physically. Going anywhere afterward was a chore because of the pain I was in; on top of that, I didn’t like the way I looked and felt in my clothes. Nothing fit right, and drain tubes were coming out of me everywhere. It was like seeing a stranger in the mirror. But at the same time, I was glad the cancer was gone.
While still recovering, I continued to fight for the reconstructive surgery. I stayed on the phone with the Blue Cross for hours, and sometimes, they would hang up on me. I needed to get on with living. I was beyond exhausted; I couldn’t work, and my family needed me. Unfortunately, BCBS did not seem to care and told me the procedure was cosmetic. After a few more months and threatening to get an attorney for the way they were treating me, BCBS finally found an in-network doctor in Gainesville, FL, for me. The doctor had good reviews, so I met with him, and we scheduled the reconstructive surgery for August 26th to have a DIEP flap breast reconstruction. The doctor told me there was a 1 to 3% chance this surgery would fail, but he felt I would do great.
However, my body likes those 1 to 3% numbers, so mine failed. This surgery took a toll on me. I was not given the best care at the hospital in Gainsville. Some of the nurses and doctors were very unprofessional. I had a bunch of unexplained bruises all over my body, a rash on my back, and a grievance letter from the hospital. After spending eight long days in Gainesville, my family and I finally went home. I had a drain tube, and my body seemed more unrecognizable than before. After this surgery, I felt incredibly defeated and depressed. I felt like I was being punished. It was hard to leave my house. I was not well mentally and physically. I felt like l had failed myself and my family. At this point, I began to feel like just another number in the healthcare system and thought that the world did not care if I lived or died; I was just another cancer patient. I also lost a friend to breast cancer during this time. This period was one of the darkest parts of my journey.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. After being home for a few weeks, I developed a seroma from the procedure in Gainesville in my stomach. I went to the ER in Panama City, where the ER doctor ordered a CAT scan. Luckily, my breast surgeon was on call that night. She came into the room and told me they found a mass in my abdomen. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I kept asking how this could be. My oncologist, Dr Johnson, ordered a PET scan, which didn’t look too great.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t not have the surgery until the seroma was gone. On Oct 9th, I went to Pensacola and had a drain tube placed back inside me under a CAT scan. During this time, I could not lift more than 5 to 7 pounds and could only walk short distances, which meant sitting on the couch most days. After four long weeks, the drain tube came out, and we were able to schedule the surgery.
On November 14th, Dr. Amanda Stephens, an oncology GYN in Tallahassee, and her team successfully removed the mass and part of my ovaries. The surgery was longer than expected because the mass was the size of a tennis ball, had attached itself to my bladder, and had started to attach itself to my colon. I am still recovering and waiting on some test results.
The breast reconstruction surgery has been put on hold for now until next year. I still spend most days at the doctor’s offices and hospitals, but I truly feel God has his hand over me on this journey. Cancer took over not just my life but also the lives of loved ones around me. I have been shown so much love and support from family and friends, for which I will be forever grateful.
My life is a little different now. I am a lot more grateful. I stopped to notice the green trees and listen to the birds singing. I look at each day as a gift from God and try not to take it for granted.
Please mark your calendars & make plans to join us on Saturday, February 1, 2025, at Lake Jackson in Florala,Al. We’ll be “Freezin” for Amy & our other 7 recipients.
Recipient #4 Kalani Lee
We are the Lee family. Jordan, Ryan, Eli, and Kalani. Kalani’s story begins with me, her mom.
I was diagnosed with bilateral retinoblastoma at 26 months. I lost my right eye immediately and after several different treatments, lost my left eye at the age of seven. I’ve been totally blind since then.
When Ryan and I got married and discussed having children, it was a long prayerful decision. We knew bilateral retina blastoma had a chance of being hereditary, and it took us a long time to come to the decision to try and have our own children. Our son, Eli, was born in 2019. We immediately took him to a pediatric ophthalmologist to be checked out. We had genetic testing done and he tested negative for the gene. He goes once a year to the ophthalmologist to get an eye exam, but he did not inherit the cancer, and his vision is perfect. When we discussed having a second child, our hopes were a little bit higher and even our genetics doctors agreed that there was a good chance our next baby would not have it either based on the tests we had run. Kalani was prematurely born this past June, so initially our primary concern was that she was not experiencing any complications from being born early. By God’s grace she was medically cleared to go home three days after her birth, and just like her brother, we took her to the pediatric ophthalmologist as soon as we could. We were so nervous going into this doctors appointment. We had been praying that our second baby would be just as healthy as our first baby. I remember sitting in that doctors office while the nurse handed Kalani back to me. I remember the doctors voice and how disappointed he sounded when he said. “I’m sorry to say that I do see a tumor in her right eye.” we all cried. It was such a shock, and even though we knew that there was a risk, I believe that we had fallen into a sense of false security with the genetic testing we had had done. I think each one of the family members, including, my parents had our own individual breakdowns over the diagnosis, but in the end we came together and found our strength. The pediatric ophthalmologist referred us to the retinoblastoma specialist in Miami. We were already driving five hours to Jacksonville for the pediatric ophthalmologist and now would need to drive 10 hours to Miami for the specialist. We were in Jacksonville on July 19 when she was diagnosed and were in Miami on July 22 for her first eye exam under anesthesia. I cried in the preop room getting her ready for her procedure. I had to strip her down to her diaper and put her in a hospital gown that was at least five times too big for her. It wrapped around her body multiple times. I remember thinking that she was too little to be there and to be going through this. That eye exam confirmed that she definitely had a tumor in the center of her right eye. The good news was that her left eye was healthy and had no signs of tumors. We were sent to the Children’s Hospital across the street from the eye Institute for observation after anesthesia and to get everything started for her chemotherapy. This began the longest stay I’ve ever had in a hospital. We were there for 11 days. They tried for two days to put a pick line in, but her veins and body were just too small. In the end, they ended up having to take her back into surgery and put a Broviac into her chest for us to use to administer chemotherapy and to draw her labs. Those 11 days are a blur of blood draws, MRIs, doctors, nurses, tears, beeping machines,and stress. My brand new baby girl just wanted to be held and nursed, and was constantly being taken from me for different tests and procedures. I remember breaking down and crying because I just could not stand to listen to her crying anymore and not be able to do anything about it. On July 26 she received her first round of chemo. As a mom it is hard to explain how I felt signing the consent forms for them to administer chemo. It is a odd, difficult, roller coaster of emotions to know that you are giving permission for someone to inject your baby with poison, but knowing that that poison is going to hopefully save their life while making them sick in the meantime. Her hemoglobin dropped drastically after that first round of chemo and she needed a blood transfusion. She fought and recovered and just wanted to be held. It took 11 days for us to get set up with a team of doctors back at home. 11 days of feeds, diaper changes, and cuddles while my baby had an IV in her upper arm, and IV in her leg, a blood pressure cuff on one ankle, a pulse ox monitor on one toe, three chest monitor lines stuck to her chest, and an IV fluid line going into her Broviac into her upper chest. They would not release us unless we had an oncologist near home to follow up with while we couldn’t be in Miami. Ryan and my mom switched off with staying with me and the baby in the hospital. My dad and Eli would come in to visit, but spent most of their time at the hotel. I stayed in the hospital, but the other three swapped off between staying with me and keeping Eli entertained. We were all so desperate to get home in the end , and though we were terrified to be bringing her home with a central line and so many doctors orders. We were just so happy to finally be home. We have gone back to Miami once a month and will continue to do so for the unseeable future. We go to Pensacola once a week to follow up with our oncologist here as well. Kalani has to get her dressing on her central line changed and labs drawn every week to check on her hemoglobin, platelets, and other Numbers to make sure that she is not in need of a blood transfusion or developing an infection. We flush her line twice a day and make sure to keep the area clean and dry to prevent any sort of bacteria or infection. She has not been able to enjoy her baby bathtub since July. She is stuck with getting cot baths until the day we are able to get the central line removed. She keeps us on our toes during wipe downs and clothing changes. It seems like she waits for you to stop paying attention for just a second and then tries to grab her Broviac. During her last eye exam in October, they found a small spot on her left eye that they were able to use laser treatment to take care of. We are leaving tomorrow, November 18, to head back down to Miami for her next eye exam on the 19th. We are hoping for good news, that the tumor in her right eye is still progressively shrinking, and that her left eye is still healthy. As of right now, her medical team is hopeful that her left eye will remain healthy and she will keep full vision in that eye. She is going to probably lose central vision in her right eye, but we are working to save her peripheral vision. With retinoblastoma you just don’t know what is going to happen from month-to-month. It is a lifetime diagnosis with risk of secondary cancers. We may treat this tumor and have another one appear in a few years, but we may also treat this tumor and might not have to go through any of this again. We just do not know. The chemotherapy makes her nauseous and causes her to have acid reflux. She can have some pretty fussy times in the first few days after chemo, but overall she is handling things well. Kalani has been so strong and such a happy baby through all of this. her medical team is thrilled with how well she is doing. She is rolling, reaching and grabbing, playing with toys, laughing, trying to scoot and crawl already, and keeps us smiling with her coos. Her Medical team described her as feisty and a fighter. Her fighting spirit shines through as she reaches her milestones and refuses to let cancer win. Seeing Kalani’s fighting spirit ignites our fighting spirit.
Please make your plans to join us on Saturday, February 1st at Lake Jackson in Florala, AL, where we’ll be “freezin” for Kalani & our other 7 recipients for CF 2025!
Recipient #5 Heatherly Jones
My name is Heatherly, but I go by my nickname “Bre”. Before receiving my diagnosis, I was a healthy 27-year-old lady who let faith guide me in life. If I wasn’t spending time with family and friends, going to concerts, you would find me lifting weights at my hometown gym. Not to mention, working full time and going to class afterwards kept my schedule booked. Prior to the start of my illness, I watched a couple of family members battle different cancers and have always felt drawn to provide support and encouragement to them. I never imagined I would be fighting this battle myself back then.
My journey started with a lump that continued to grow for over a year or two. At this point, I am becoming frustrated and changing doctors to get someone to listen. A few weeks after I found my new doctor, I found out a baby was on the way. Honestly, I felt various emotions because my fiancé and I weren’t expecting to start a family so soon. I was still going to nursing school full time at this time. After a few days, I grew excited and started picking out baby items.
At this point, I had changed to a new obgyn doctor in hopes my lump would be checked out. I believe I was less than 20 weeks when I seen my new doctor. During my first visit, he examined my lump and sent me to get an ultrasound done in a few days. In my head, I remember reminding myself this could be something as small as a cyst. Things from that point on moved so fast I barely had time to blink. After the ultrasound, I received results within just a few days. I was a nervous wreck those few days! I couldn’t help but allow negative scenarios to enter my mind. Finally, the nurse read off my results and sent me to have a biopsy done in a week or so. At that point, I’m thinking it’s still something minor. The office called me in for a appointment to give me the news.
So, on March 5, 2024, I received a diagnosis of stage 2 invasive ductal carcinoma that was also hormone positive. In that moment, I felt every emotion possible. I smiled until I was able to make it to my car, then let the flood gate burst. I hit my steering wheel, screamed, and had a trillion thoughts running through my mind. Not long afterwards, I was scheduled to see my surgeons, and a high-risk doctor. No one should have to make hard choices in a few weeks. In a blink of an eye, I had to decide what were the next steps even if as a woman I wasn’t ready to decide, but I felt I didn’t have much time especially with a precious baby girl on the way. Thankfully, I didn’t carry the BRCA gene but tested positive for other hormones. After reviewing my choices with my doctors and family, I decided to have a mastectomy and reconstructive surgery. Afterwards, I was hoping I wouldn’t be a candidate for chemotherapy because of how harsh it can be on the body. However, without undergoing chemotherapy I had almost a fifty percent chance of a relapse within ten years. As a first-time mom, I didn’t want to allow cancer to take me from my baby girl. I wanted to fight to be here for her and my loved ones. I had my mastectomy on April fourth, then started chemotherapy a few weeks after. My first cycles were a combination of “Red Devil” and another medication. Ironically, pregnancy possibly prevented harsh side effects. These cycles were given every 3 weeks, which helped give me time to recover because I still felt some side effects. My oncologist and obgyn worked together throughout my pregnancy to ensure treatment stopped in enough time to not hinder delivery or pose a risk to my baby girl. After finishing those cycles, I was scheduled to receive 12 weekly doses of Taxol, which I finished on November 22, 2024.
Looking back, these last few months have been a blur. I recently have started to experience neuropathy symptoms and chemo brain, which has made life a lot different. As I said earlier, I always run back to my faith and strongly believe God never does anything without a bigger purpose behind it. I thought my world was crashing down but I had a bigger picture to
see. I’m still fighting, and my village continues to encourage me every step of the way. I decided I was going to finish nursing school because I want to help others in a bigger way who are in my shoes. I can’t thank my family and friends enough for always lifting me up during these tough times!
Please keep this beautiful family in your thoughts & prayers and make your plans to join us in Florala,Al, on Saturday, February 1st! We’ll be “Freezin” for Bre & our other 7 recipients for CF 2025.
My journey started with a lump that continued to grow for over a year or two. At this point, I am becoming frustrated and changing doctors to get someone to listen. A few weeks after I found my new doctor, I found out a baby was on the way. Honestly, I felt various emotions because my fiancé and I weren’t expecting to start a family so soon. I was still going to nursing school full time at this time. After a few days, I grew excited and started picking out baby items.
At this point, I had changed to a new obgyn doctor in hopes my lump would be checked out. I believe I was less than 20 weeks when I seen my new doctor. During my first visit, he examined my lump and sent me to get an ultrasound done in a few days. In my head, I remember reminding myself this could be something as small as a cyst. Things from that point on moved so fast I barely had time to blink. After the ultrasound, I received results within just a few days. I was a nervous wreck those few days! I couldn’t help but allow negative scenarios to enter my mind. Finally, the nurse read off my results and sent me to have a biopsy done in a week or so. At that point, I’m thinking it’s still something minor. The office called me in for a appointment to give me the news.
So, on March 5, 2024, I received a diagnosis of stage 2 invasive ductal carcinoma that was also hormone positive. In that moment, I felt every emotion possible. I smiled until I was able to make it to my car, then let the flood gate burst. I hit my steering wheel, screamed, and had a trillion thoughts running through my mind. Not long afterwards, I was scheduled to see my surgeons, and a high-risk doctor. No one should have to make hard choices in a few weeks. In a blink of an eye, I had to decide what were the next steps even if as a woman I wasn’t ready to decide, but I felt I didn’t have much time especially with a precious baby girl on the way. Thankfully, I didn’t carry the BRCA gene but tested positive for other hormones. After reviewing my choices with my doctors and family, I decided to have a mastectomy and reconstructive surgery. Afterwards, I was hoping I wouldn’t be a candidate for chemotherapy because of how harsh it can be on the body. However, without undergoing chemotherapy I had almost a fifty percent chance of a relapse within ten years. As a first-time mom, I didn’t want to allow cancer to take me from my baby girl. I wanted to fight to be here for her and my loved ones. I had my mastectomy on April fourth, then started chemotherapy a few weeks after. My first cycles were a combination of “Red Devil” and another medication. Ironically, pregnancy possibly prevented harsh side effects. These cycles were given every 3 weeks, which helped give me time to recover because I still felt some side effects. My oncologist and obgyn worked together throughout my pregnancy to ensure treatment stopped in enough time to not hinder delivery or pose a risk to my baby girl. After finishing those cycles, I was scheduled to receive 12 weekly doses of Taxol, which I finished on November 22, 2024.
Looking back, these last few months have been a blur. I recently have started to experience neuropathy symptoms and chemo brain, which has made life a lot different. As I said earlier, I always run back to my faith and strongly believe God never does anything without a bigger purpose behind it. I thought my world was crashing down but I had a bigger picture to
see. I’m still fighting, and my village continues to encourage me every step of the way. I decided I was going to finish nursing school because I want to help others in a bigger way who are in my shoes. I can’t thank my family and friends enough for always lifting me up during these tough times!
Please keep this beautiful family in your thoughts & prayers and make your plans to join us in Florala,Al, on Saturday, February 1st! We’ll be “Freezin” for Bre & our other 7 recipients for CF 2025.
Recipient #6 Tabitha Pastucha
My name is Tabitha Pastucha. I’m a native here, born and raised in Milton and currently living in Pensacola, FL. I have a wonderful partner in life, and together, we have the most vivacious little girl who’s 5.
My story began, in June of 2024, but before I begin, there is a backstory to reference. I’ve had a history of dense breast with cysts. In fact, my first finding of a cyst in both breasts was right after I gave birth to our daughter in 2019. I was seen by my Primary Doctor in February 2020. She agreed that my breasts were very “lumpy” and explained my options if I had any future discomfort (they didn’t hurt at that time, just scary new lumps), which were surgery or taking fish oil supplements. She ordered an ultrasound at the Ann Baroco Center at Sacred Heart. I went there within a couple of weeks, but they wouldn’t honor the order due to my age (35 at that time). I walked out astounded. I called my Primary Doctor’s office and they referred me to the Women’s Place in Milton, FL. They were able to get me in that same week, without any issues with my age. I got my results relatively quickly, and the cyst were recognized as benign cyst. As years past I didn’t have any pain from them, but I continued physical exams during my annual visits.
Around June 26th, my 40th birthday, I was experiencing pain in my left breast. The week before I had moved some storage containers in the garage and I thought maybe I pulled a muscle and didn’t think much of it, but I kept an eye on it. The pain continued and worsened at times. The worst day was the 4th of July. I tried to self-heal with ice packs and 500mg of pain reliever, which didn’t touch it. I did a quick Google search and everywhere online said that if it was painful that it was highly unlikely to be breast cancer, but I still wanted to get this checked out. I called my Primary Doctor’s office, but my Doctor was out of town at the time. I explained my history, what I read online (not cancer), that it felt like a cyst had ruptured, that it felt different, like the cysts had fused together as a solid mass, and something just wasn’t right. If they couldn’t get me in, I was going to go to urgent care, but my Primary’s NP was able to get me in the next day, July 5th. That day, after the physical exam, the NP was concerned enough to refer me to the Women’s Place again for an ultrasound and mammogram X-rays. She said if I wanted to be proactive, I could go ahead and call after I left their office, which I did, to try to get an appointment as soon as possible. I called while driving home and the soonest they could get me in was August 9th. I requested to be put on the cancellation list so I would be notified if there were any cancellations, so I could get in sooner. A few days later, we had reservations for a week at a beach house with family and friends, to watch the Blue Angels fly over Pensacola beach. I toughed it through the week, but even the water hitting my chest hurt. I didn’t swim all week, I stayed on the sand, under the shade, or I stood waist high in the water. My parents were there, who both work in the medical field, I told them about my concerns and asked that they try to help get me get an appointment sooner. On the last day at the beach house, I reminded them to please see if they could get me an appointment sooner. On July 15th, I was very lucky, I received a call from the Women’s Place. There was a cancellation for July 17th. I was a little scared to ask for more time off after I had just returned from the beach, but this was too important. I dropped everything to go.
Mammograms are always painful, but it was more painful this time. When I was done with the mammogram X-rays and the ultrasound, I met with their navigator and she told me that they would call me as soon as they heard from the doctor. Before I left the parking lot, I got a call from them. My heart dropped, thinking the worst, but I hoped maybe I just left something in the dressing room. The navigator said that the doctor had already looked at my scans, and my age, and she’d like me to come in tomorrow morning for a biopsy. This is serious, I had to go. The next day, I went to Santa Rosa Hospital and had the biopsy done. They inserted three clips in the left breast so that if the cysts were benign, and any issues arose in the future, there were permanent flags/markers to signal doctors that these areas of concern were looked at before. The doctor said that the breast tissue was so dense she could barely get the needle through it. She had to brace me and manhandle it a few times to get through. It was unpleasant. While wrapping up she said, “I don’t want to freak you out, but I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’m gonna tell you that I would be real surprised if your results came back benign. Now, I don’t want you to go home and Google anything, I just want you to be prepared because I know you have a little girl at home.” I appreciated that because waiting for any result is agony, but that really helped me gear up for the confirmation I was surely anticipating now. It also goes to show that had I listened to Google from the beginning, and had I not insisted on getting this checked out, I could be in a much heavier situation to date.
After the biopsy, I went to my parent’s house. I explained what the doctor had said. They tried to stay optimistic, maybe in denial and shock a bit, but they held it together. They weren’t going to accept it without the results, but I wanted to allow them the most time I could to process what seemed inevitable within the next few days.
The next day, I was very caught off guard to receive a call from the doctor’s office. I was at work and it was my Primary’s NP with my results. I didn’t expect my results so quickly! I took my phone into the bathroom for privacy. She asked if I wanted my results over the phone or would I like to come in. I said now. She said I’m sorry, but you have Invasive Ductal Carcinoma (cancer). She said a lot of other things, a lot of medical jargon, but I blacked out (in a manner of speaking). Even if I knew what she was saying, I was just numb at that point. I was emotionally debilitated at the moment. Her voice was muffled background noise. After the call ended, my composure was lost and I unraveled. A few minutes later, I gained some composure and asked to speak to my Supervisor. I told them the news and asked if I could leave for the day, and I assured them I would keep them informed.
The first person I called was my partner. I told him my plan was to go to my sister’s house to deliver the news because I hadn’t let her in on any of this. I asked him to go with me to my parents house after that, because that was probably the hardest part of the process for me, even though I warned them the day before. My poor sister was blindsided. I hadn’t told her about the pain I was having, my appointments, or anything. I didn’t want her to worry if it was nothing, but I caught her up to speed and I told her everything. I felt so bad dropping that on her.
Next, I called my parents and asked them if it were possible for them to leave work early to meet me at their house. They asked what was it about and I told them that I had received my results. They were surprised as well, and I think they knew at that point. They both made it home early, and I knew they were going to ask me a ton of questions that I didn’t know how to answer because I blacked out when I got the news. So, I came prepared with a printout of my results. They suggested I schedule a consultation with a surgeon, who’s an old friend and colleague of my parents. She had worked on me before when my gallbladder had to be removed after my pregnancy. They took the news better than I thought they would. They stayed strong for me and assured me that we were going to get through this together. I absolutely hated having to burden them with this confirmation-a nightmare for any parent.
I was able to get an appointment with the surgeon on July 23rd. She did a physical exam and said that she worked with an oncologist named Doctor Jafri at Baptist Hospital, and they were going to take care of me, which was comforting at the time.
Shortly after, I had a breast cancer navigator from Baptist Hospital reach out and explain the rundown. I had a lot of questions because I was naive to all this stuff. And I wholeheartedly listened to them when they advised me to stay away from Google! My partner and my parents came to my first appointment to meet Doctor Jafri. He set me up with a brain MRI (July 25th), port placement (July 26th), a PET scan (July 29th), a chest MRI (July 31st), and an Echo test (Aug 1st). None of which I had ever done before, but I wasn’t allowed to start chemo until these 4 tests were done and the results were received. And the port is an access point (usually under the collar bone) for all my future chemo infusions, lab blood draws, IV’s, etc. I also opted for a genetics test to see if my daughter would need to pay close attention to her screenings in her future.
Everything was happening so fast. I was being sent all over town to be poked, prodded, scanned. It was overwhelming and sometimes scary, but I kept the pedal to the medal so I could start treatment.
The results from all the scans showed that we caught it early, at stage 2A. It had only infected one lymph node so far, it was confirmed to be a triple negative breast cancer, which is an aggressive kind because it moves quickly and does not respond to hormone treatments or drugs targeting HER2 (protein). The genetic test results showed that I do not have the mutated gene, which is great news for my daughter, but to be honest, after all this, I’m still going to advocate that my daughter get checked annually as every woman should. Also, I didn’t know that the mutated gene was linked to other cancers such as ovarian cancer. Had the genetic test shown I had the mutated gene, my doctor was going to suggest getting a hysterectomy as well.
I was given a treatment plan that started August 5th, four days before I was originally set to have the ultrasound done, but I was persistent and kept pushing! I’m so grateful to have gotten in early!
Plan of action:
1. Have a clip put on my infected lymph node (Aug. 13th). It flags the surgeons to remove it during surgery. In addition to the 3-8 lymph nodes they take out to test for cancer cells.
2. Keytruda (Immunotherapy) every 3 weeks for a year or longer (TBD)
3. Weekly treatments of Taxol and Carboplatin chemo for 12 weeks (as well as pre-meds)
4. Week 13, I start a new phase of chemo: 4 treatments, once every 3 weeks I receive Adriamycin (AKA: “AC” or the uncomforting name “The Red Devil”) and Cytoxan (as well as pre-meds). I heard that this phase can diminish your WBC-You have to be extra cautious of germs and bacteria, and watch what you eat and how food is prepared etc. (like washing your fruits and veggies if you don’t already). Neulasta is included in the phase as well, which is a shot given to you 27 hrs after each chemo treatment. It artificially tells your bones to produce baby white blood cells to help keep your white blood cell count (WBC) within normal range. It can cause severe bone pain. The doctor and nurses said Tylenol or regular Claritin helps with the bone pain. They don’t know why Claritin helps, but they said to get some, so I did!
5. I believe we’re doing a chest MRI after chemo treatment for a before and after look.
6. A bilateral surgery (double mastectomy) will be scheduled 4 to 8 weeks after my last chemo treatment. I have to regain my strength to withgo surgery, but you don’t want to wait too long leaving the tumor unattended. Though the cancer is only in the left breast, I opted to get both removed since there are large cysts in the right breast as well. I discussed this with my doctor and my surgeon and they both agreed that that would be in my best interest. They said most people my age opt for the same decision. My surgeon suggested not doing a nipple sparing due to aggression of this cancer. She said I would always have the option to have a tattoo in place of the nipple, if I was open or interested in that.
7. I have the option to stay flat or have expanders installed during the mastectomy. The expanders would include weekly or bi-weekly injections until they reach the desired size. Then, I would undergo reconstruction surgery sometime after. Luckily, my surgeon works with the reconstruction surgeon, so I can have expanders placed during the time of the mastectomy, which saves me from having 3 surgeries (mastectomy, then expanders, then reconstruction). But I must note that the reconstruction surgeon has a team of surgeons as well, so most patients don’t have to do 3 surgeries either. I’m just more comfortable with the surgeon I know, and they luckily work together. I just met the reconstruction surgeon for the first time (Dec. 9th) and I feel good about the procedure.
There’s so much information thrown at you. It’s overwhelming and scary at times, but we’re halfway through the new phase of chemo. I can’t wait to ring that bell (Jan. 6th) at the infusion center! Though, I’ll still be going there every 3 weeks for Keytruda infusions, I get to celebrate the end of my chemo treatments! Though I believe my lifestyle habits are average or above, I’ve done some reflecting, and I did a deep dive into learning healthier lifestyle habits that I can incorporate, like herbal teas, less sugars (IT’S IN EVERYTHING), less chemically processed foods (IT’S IN EVERYTHING), filtered shower heads, cold plunges/showers, grounding, meditation, rebounding, etc. It’s a challenge to fit some/all of these things into my schedule, especially during treatment and while I’m still working full time and taking care of our daughter’s school and daily routine, but at least I ‘ve gained valuable knowledge and have goals to continue improving every day.
Things got real, real quick. We had to figure out how we were going to manage our home, childcare, school, work, all these new tests around town, the new treatment schedule, information overloads, etc. but I am beyond blessed with a wonderful partner and support system of family, friends, the company I work for, new friends, and now the Cancer Freeze organization. We are grateful to have been introduced to this organization and we look forward to becoming more involved in the future.
Please mark your calendars & make plans to join us on Saturday, February 1st, at Lake Jackson in Florala, AL, where we’ll be “Freezin” for Tabitha & our other 2025 recipients.
Recipient #7 Brittany Lee
Hello everyone, my name is Brittany Lee. I am twenty-eight years old. At the young age of Three I was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. I fought that cancer for years. I don’t really remember much other than stories I have been told. Such as, being bald or the scar from my port site. I was a fighter. Then, I was cancer free at the age of Nine.
Fast forward to the year 2023. I knew something was wrong when I tried to eat, and my tongue hurt. I thought it was nothing serious, just maybe I bit my tongue. As each day passed my tongue got worse. I called my dentist, got in to see him and the worst happened. They sent me to an oral surgeon and he done a biopsy and it confirmed my fear and found out it was more serious than I expected he diagnosed me with Invasive Squamous Cell Carcinoma cancer.
I know I am not alone on this journey of mine, but I feel alone yes, at times. I have my husband Zack and all of my family but in reality, I am going through it myself. God is with me when I can not talk to anyone about it, I talk to God. I was able to come up with my copay and was scheduled scheduled for my surgery on August 6, 2024. I had to be at Moffitt at 5am that morning. My husband and my parents and great uncle drove the day before. We ended up driving through one of the hurricanes. I tried to cancel the appointment, but my husband would not let me. Had we cancelled it would have been another month out. When we arrived at the air bnb that we rented, my phone kept ringing. It was a number I didn’t recognize. I answered and it was my surgeon. He was calling to let me know that he got stuck in Minnesota because of the storm. He couldn’t make it back to perform my surgery. After hearing that I immediately wanted to go back home. This was not the plan for me to have a completely different doctor. I got a little upset just not sure what would come of this news. I informed everyone about the call and from here we just had to deal with it. So, the morning of the surgery comes quickly. We all got ready and went to the hospital. We went through all the paperwork of pre-op and met the new surgeon. She told me what all she would be doing and the more she talked the more I worried I would not make it through this. She informed me of things I did not know I would be facing. I got to see my family one last time. The last thing I remember is seeing my family then waking up to my husband holding my hand. He leaned in and kissed me on the forehead then he and my family told me about the surgery I had just gone through. As they describe it, I could only think to myself that I would sing again. I could not talk at the time I was writing everything down. After a few hours I was able to talk some. It was hard to pronounce words but in time it got better. I had a feeding tube in my nose and tracheotomy in my neck. My neck was cut from one side to the other. Two drain bulbs in my neck to drain excess fluids. I also had a wound vac on my left arm. That arm is where the veins were taken to put into my tongue. Also, skin and muscle were used from my arm. They took 60% of my tongue and part of the bottom of my mouth. Also, I saw I had a patch on my left leg. They used that skin graft to put on my wrist. All the staff and doctors and nurses were absolutely amazing through all of this. After the second day I felt better. It was hard with all the stress. It caused a lot of anxiety throughout my hospital stay. My family really helped me through all that. On the sixth day they removed the tracheotomy. Then on the seventh day the feeding tube was removed only if I was able to eat, and I was able to go home. I was finally able to eat something and passed all the tests for chewing and swallowing. The doctors and nurses could not believe how well I was doing after such extensive surgery. I got home I was so happy I could not even describe it. I was able to drink milkshakes and soups. I tried a steak that my husband grilled, and it was so delicious. I was so happy but didn’t want to push it while trying to eat solids. My mouth and tongue still had a lot of healing to do. Two weeks later I went for my check up and got the results. All the biopsies they took during my surgery we got to find out more about it. The doctors were pleased with how well I was recovering. The results of the biopsies show that my cancer was in two different stages. The cancer in my mouth was in stage 3, my neck was stage 4A. I was blessed because the lymph node that spreads to all your organs did not show any sign of cancer. They removed all the other lymph nodes. God was in this from the beginning. The bad news was they didn’t get clean margins so I would need to get 8 weeks of radiation treatment and 8 weeks of chemo. I was supposed to get 8 weeks of chemo, but my body could not handle it and started shutting down. My kidneys were first to shut down. I felt as though I would die. The doctor told me that when the kidneys start to fail, every organ is after and that would not be good. I started to be afraid through it, but I kept telling myself, “I am a winner either way” if I go or if I stay, I know God is in this and whatever he chooses I’ll be just fine. I was so sick through the process of radiation. My tongue was so sore and had blisters all in my mouth, lips, throat. So I had to get fluids twice a week. It was hard to get nutrition in my body not being able to eat or drink. The radiation was different. It is hard to explain what I felt. My mind would be all over the place wondering if it would work or not. I still have these worries; I won’t know until February of 2025. I hurt so bad constantly on so many different medications to help get through this. There were so many times I wanted to quit and give up but with the pain medications barely touching the pain and not being able to eat and drink… but I never gave up. It was hard not to give up at times. I wanted my family to see the strong person they are used to seeing. I realized that one day, this too shall pass. I just had to continue fighting, not only for my family but for myself lastly. I refused to let the devil win this battle. Nothing about this journey has been easy. In all honesty it has been the hardest thing I have ever faced. I don’t remember my leukemia treatments but after 42 treatments of radiation I was able to ring that bell on November 7th, 2024. All I could think was why am I ringing this bell when I or all of my doctors do not know if I am cancer free. I wanted to ring it after knowing I have beaten this for good. We all are believing and praying when I have my next scan on February 4th they will tell me I am cancer free. I also will keep my mind open so as not to be heartbroken if the tests say otherwise. The doctors are concerned because I was only able to get 3 weeks of chemo and not the 8, I originally should have gotten. The doctors told me in the beginning I may have to do two rounds of treatment, so we will not know for certain until the scans are done. If they tell me that the first round worked, I cannot describe in words how happy I will be. With the chemo I stayed nauseous for about 4 weeks. It was not that bad since all I got was 3 treatments. I will say it destroyed my blood veins, being dehydrated didn’t help either. Every time I had to give blood they would have to stick me multiple times, so I opted to get a pic line put in. This made things much easier. I have never cried like I have since my diagnosis. From the pain or just not feeling good and so many tests. Most of that time my husband could not be with me and I’d be so scared. I did not want to be alone. I remember when I was getting the pic line put in, I had to have a scan done they stuck me so many times I cried. I kept begging the nurse to stop and my husband came in. He heard me in the other room and came through the doors and all I remember is the nurse telling him he had to leave and he said he was not going anywhere. My husband has been my rock throughout all of this. He has taken care of me. I do not know where I’d be if I didn’t have him. I am so blessed and grateful to my friends, those of you who have prayed, my husband, parents, grandpa, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, in-laws, nieces and nephews and my church family. I love you all so very much. They are always here to help even when I didn’t know I needed it. Thank you all so much. And I Thank all of you for your support through all of this.
Brittany
Remember to mark your calendars & make plans to join us on Saturday, February 1st at Lake Jackson in Florala, Al, where we’ll be “Freezin” for Brittany & our other recipients.
Recipient #8 Kellen Hilson
Good morning & Happy Sunday, Cancer Freeze friends & family. Today we share our final recipient for CF 2025. Let’s meet Kellan Hilson.
Below is her story:
On April 16, 2024, our world came crashing down. My vibrant, joyful four year old daughter, Kellan, was diagnosed with Precursor B-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. The moments leading up to that news were filled with fear, confusion, and a gut wrenching sense that something wasn’t right, but nothing could have prepared me for what was to come.
It all began on April 3rd, I was out of town for work, and my best friend was staying at my house every night to watch my daughters, Kellan and her three year old sister, Ila. My dad handled the day-to-day, taking them to school, picking them up, and meeting my best friend back at my house after she got off work. That morning, my dad received a call from the girls school saying Kellan was limping and was unable to fully bear weight on her right leg. The school mentioned a visiting pediatrician had noticed swelling around her knee and suggested she be seen by a doctor. My dad texted me to ask me if he had to take Kellan to a pediatrician, where should he go. I immediately called him back, my heart sinking as I tried to piece together what was happening.
My dad picked her up from school and took her to the pediatrician, who assured us that there didn’t seem to be anything majorly wrong either her leg but noted an ear infection and recommended bringing her back in a few days for a recheck. The next day, Kellan stayed home from school, and my dad took her to our chiropractor, as I wanted her to have the knee looked at and for them to adjust her ears due to the ear infection. By this point, bruising and swelling appeared on her knee. Still, no major concerns at point.
Then, everything began to shift. I watched the cameras in her room that night and saw her limping again, straight out of bed in the middle of the night, but now it was her left leg. After seeing that I knew this wasn’t behavioral, as some had suggested it might be, and decided to cut my work trip short and flew home early. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. On April 5th, I rushed her to urgent care as soon as I landed. X-rays revealed nothing definitive, just a “lip” on her right knee. They suggested following up with Nemours Pediatric Orthopedics. I then took her to her follow up pediatrician appointment on April 6th where her pediatrician said there was no longer signs of an ear infection and agreed with the direction of the urgent care as there was no obvious signs of a fracture or any other leg trauma.
The weekend passed with no answers. Kellan still wasn’t herself. Normally she’d be running, dancing, and playing nonstop, but she was hesitant to do things like step onto the back deck at my sisters or climb into the car. On Monday, April 8th, I called Nemours and was told the earliest available appointment was April 23rd. That morning, I sent her to school because no symptoms of an ear infection were present and she didn’t seem to be in any pain. Hours later, my phone rang, Kellan was crying in pain at school and was unable to walk. I picked her up and went straight back to urgent care. This time, the doctor told me her X-ray that was taken previously showed a patella fracture and that she needed to go to the ER immediately.
At the ER, they splinted her right leg, but the splint caused her unbearable pain overnight. By morning, I was back at the ER, desperate for help. That’s when we met Dr. Kevin Bryan, who carefully evaluated her, moving her legs around to assess her range of motion. He felt the splint was unnecessary and suggested it might be something viral or muscular that was causing the symptoms she was experiencing. He assured me that we could wait 7–10 days to see improvement before considering labs, but he recommended keeping our follow up appointment with Nemours Pediatric Orthopedics on April 11th. I agreed, trusting his guidance.
At Nemours, they reviewed her imaging again and didn’t find a fracture but decided to run additional tests to rule out other possibilities. They performed an ultrasound of her hips and pelvis and sent us to Quest for bloodwork. As I pulled into my sister’s driveway later that day, I began receiving the lab results. Concerned by what I was seeing, I texted Dr. Bryan for his feedback, as he had given me his personal phone number to keep him updated post our follow up appointment with the orthopedic doctor. He called me and reassured me that while the results could point to a viral issue, he felt we should retest the following week to monitor trends. After some discussion, we decided to retest on Monday, April 15th, when he would personally be available to oversee her care.
We tried to relax over the weekend, went to the beach and played for several hours, but I couldn’t shake the unease I’d been feeling. We returned to Dr. Bryan on Monday for lab work to be completed. Results came back indicating Kellan’s white blood cells had improved slightly, but her red blood cells and platelets were still low. As we were sitting in the pediatric ER room we were assigned, one of the nurses came in, handed Dr. Bryan a yellow piece of paper and said “blasts are at 4.” indicating that her blast cells were at 4%. The energy in the room immediately shifted and Dr. Bryan said “I don’t like that.” Everything after that was a bit of a blur, I just remember walking out of Kellan’s room to take a minute to myself, and I just fell to my knees and began sobbing and begging God for it to not be anything serious, and for it to just be viral. I’ll never forget the look on Dr. Bryan’s face when he told me we needed to go to Sacred Heart in Pensacola immediately, but that I need to go home first and pack for at least three days. As I packed for the hospital, the weight of what could be hit me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t concentrate and my mind was racing – it felt like it took me forever to pack.
At Sacred Heart, more tests were run. I’ll never forget sitting in that hospital room, holding my breath, praying for answers but dreading them all the same. The next morning, April 16th, a team of doctors and nurses met us in the hallway as Kellan was doing rounds in this play car, as she’d been doing for a large portion of her morning to pass the time. They asked to speak with me privately. In a small conference room, they asked me to tell them about the events that lead us to this point and after I was done, they began to explain results of bloodwork they had ran and then told me the words no parent should ever hear: “it’s looking like leukemia.”
Hearing those words, it felt like the ground beneath me collapsed. My greatest fear as a parent had always been something happening affecting my children’s health negatively, and now that fear was a horrifying reality. I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs. My ears rang. I couldn’t even think to ask questions. All I could do was sit there, numb, as they explained how her bone marrow and blood were being overrun with cancer cells, crowding out the healthy ones causing her pain and the abnormalities in her lab work. My beautiful, innocent little girl. Why her? Why now? The fear and guilt were overwhelming. Had I missed something? Could I have done something to prevent this? The doctors assured me this wasn’t my fault, but nothing could ease the ache in my chest.
Since that day, Kellan has endured more trauma than most adults will face in a lifetime. She’s had 11 lumbar punctures, 2 bone marrow biopsies, 18 doses of Vincristine, 2 doses of Peg, 3 doses of Doxorubicin, 1 dose of Cyclophosphamide, 8 doses of Cytarabine, 14 doses of Thioguanine, 5 doses of IV Methotrexate, 42 doses of steroids, and 5 transfusions. Her tiny body has been poked, prodded, and invaded in ways no child should ever experience. The physical toll is heartbreaking, but the mental and emotional scars cut just as deep.
Every trip to the clinic, every blood draw, and every time her port is accessed fills her with fear. Something as simple as a blood pressure cuff can send her into a panic. She has bitten, hit, and scratched during clinic and lab appointments, not because she wants to hurt anyone, but because she’s terrified and trying to protect herself. I’ve had to hold her down while nurses insert needles, watching her plead for it to stop, wishing I could just take her place. It’s the most helpless and excruciating feeling I’ve ever experienced as a parent.
Her trauma doesn’t end at the hospital. At home, her fears manifest in new ways. She’s scared of the dark, wants to keep all of the doors in the house closed, and has frequent nightmares. None of these things happened before her diagnosis. Her innocence has been ripped away, and it breaks my heart to see how much this experience has aged her.
For me, the anxiety is all consuming. I’m terrified of what the future holds, of relapse, of side effects, of the long term impact on her physical and mental health. Financially, it’s been devastating. I can’t work due to the demands of her treatment schedule, and every bill feels like an impossible mountain to climb. On top of that, I carry immense guilt, not just for what Kellan is going through, but for what Ila has endured as well.
Ila has had her entire routine uprooted. She’s spent countless nights away from home because I can’t bring her to the hospital during treatments. She’s had to adapt to a new normal where her mom isn’t always there, and her big sister can’t always play with her like she used to. I worry about the trauma this has caused her and whether I’ll ever be able to make it up to her. I feel like I’m failing both my daughters, even though I’m doing everything I can to keep us afloat.
Still, through all this pain, Kellan remains a light. Her laughter is still infectious. She loves to draw pictures to make others smile and dance and lip syncs songs to brighten the room. She’s giving and sweet, always wanting to make those around her happy, even when she’s in pain. Her resilience inspires me every day, but I can see how much she’s been forced to grow up in such a short time. She’s no longer the carefree little girl she once was, and that loss of innocence is something I’ll grieve forever.
As we approach maintenance therapy in January, there is a glimmer of hope. Kellan’s biggest wish is to go back to school and see her best friend, Indi. The last time we saw her oncologist, she looked him in the eye and said, “I want to go back to school!” That moment keeps me going, even on the darkest days, because I just want to help make that wish come true, bringing back some normalcy to her life.
This journey has been unimaginably hard. It has tested every ounce of strength and faith I have, but it’s also shown me the depth of my love for my daughters, how good God is, and the incredible resilience of the human spirit. Kellan is my hero, and her fight inspires me!
Please make your plans to join us on Saturday, February 1st at Lake Jackson in Florala,Al, where we’ll be freezin for Kellan & our other recipients. 
