
Help Me Keep my home during chemo therapy at Stanford
0% complete
$22,673 raised of
54 donations
Important update:
October 21, 2026
Hello, and thank you for reading.
Welcome to my fundraiser. If you’re new, thank you for visiting. If you’ve donated or shared before, thank you again.
I wish I had better news: I’m still behind and I’m facing eviction while going through chemotherapy, and have scheduled surgery, and I need help today to keep my home.
I need $10,000 to catch up on September and October rent, late fees, to halt the eviction process, the rest is for urgent bills, and to buy food. If you can donate today, preferably within the next few hours, please do. Any amount helps.
I’m hoping for a real crowdfunding spirit:
These amounts are staggering, but I’m not asking anyone to carry this whole burden. With 10, 20, or 30 people pitching in, I believe I can catch up on September and October and cover the bare necessities much sooner.
For example, $8,000 of that goal could come from 8 people giving $1,000 each, 16 giving $500, or 32 giving $250. Those are only examples. Smaller gifts matter, too, and a mix of amounts can get me there. Whatever you can give would be one part of that shared effort.
What your help has meant
I started this fundraiser earlier this year to ask for help with my medical expenses until I could afford them myself. Since then, 51 kind people — friends and strangers — have helped pay for treatment, prescriptions, rides to Stanford, and groceries.
I began chemotherapy at Stanford in the spring. One person, in addition to donating, sent me a plush emotional support dog. Another gave a large donation over the summer when I desperately needed help beyond medical expenses. Every gesture, big or small, has meant so much to me. You carried me through the hardest months of treatment. I’m deeply grateful.
Where things stand today
This is one of the hardest updates I’ve written. I’m sharing what my life looks like when no one else is around, because I can’t afford to keep it to myself any longer.
My savings and all the funds raised here are gone. My credit cards are maxed out. One bank account is overdrawn; the other holds $26 in checking and $10 in savings. That is all I have for food, medication, and everything else.
My September and October rent and utilities are overdue, along with my phone, internet, and electricity. I’ve received two three-day notices. The deadline was October 20, and my property manager has given me a little more time—but not much. November’s rent is due in ten days. My internet was cut off October 20th. I need it for work, and I’m writing this on my phone. However, my phone service and electricity are suspended next, unless I pay ASAP.
I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten anything fresh in weeks. I stand in front of my nearly empty fridge and wonder where my next meal will come from. The cats have about two weeks of food left.
I wish I had asked sooner. I feel ashamed, and I’m afraid of rejection or of people quietly withdrawing because they don’t know what to say. It is hard to ask again when so many people have already helped. But I need help today. I’m at risk of losing my home while I’m still in treatment.
My fridge this October. This is not a stock photo,
How I got here
Two years without income, including months of debilitating chemotherapy, have used up my savings. Medical debt has left me unable to get a loan. I have no partner or extended family to turn to for financial help. That’s why I’m asking you.
My three cats Michaël, Leo, and Mocha are my family. Mocha sleeps next to my head. Michaël and Leo settle on the bed whenever I rest. Finding shelter or a temporary place that will take all three cats would be difficult, and I won’t split them up. Most days, I choose between food for me and food for them. The cats always eat.
My two daughters, my absolute favorite human beings, are an adolescent and a young adult. My older daughter just started graduate school. I couldn’t help her move in or fly out to see her settle. My younger daughter lives with her father’s family. Both know I’ve lived with migraines and an autoimmune illness for more than a decade. Neither knows about the new diagnosis or how close I am to losing my home. As they embark on their exciting and beautiful journeys, pursuing their education, I cannot burden them right now.
What I need now
$10,000 would bring September and October current, dodge eviction, cover urgent bills, restore my internet, keep my phone on, and put food in the fridge. Another $9,000 would help me through November while I work toward earning again.
Breakdown of costs:
My housing and basic bills alone come to about $5,000 a month. With care not covered by medical care, food, transportation, and other necessities, my monthly expenses total about $9,100:
- Rent, pet fees, and utilities: about $4,150
- Renter’s insurance: $25
- Storage and garage: $340
- Electricity, phone, internet, and cloud services for work: $450
- LinkedIn and learning subscriptions: $60–$120
- Treatments and diagnostic tests insurance does not cover: $1,700
- Copays and over-the-counter medication: $500
- Rides to Stanford: $250, down from $600
- Groceries, basic necessities, cat food, and litter: $1,000
- Debt payment plan: $600
I’m looking for somewhere cheaper, but I can’t move in the middle of treatment, and without income, I can’t qualify for a new lease.
Right now, I’m asking for help catching up and getting through November so I can stay housed, continue my care, and return to work.
What comes next
On good days, I work. I’m rebuilding my website, reconnecting with people, and shaping something I’ve wanted to build for a long time: a human-first, AI-native home for writers, thinkers, and creatives.
I spent a decade at Apple, practicing to create wonderful things that are beautiful. And the effort is invisible. It’s the work I’ve spent thirty years preparing for. I’m also confident I’ll be able to find people who can see the potential in me, based on the work I’ve done at Apple and elsewhere. After PayPal, Huawei, and a GoogleX moonshot, I shifted my focus to start-ups. I became the first Head of Design at You.com, founded by German, US-based AI pioneer Richard Socher, now valued at $1.5 billion. The craft hasn’t gone anywhere. I am an eternal learner and hands-on product designer. My body needs time to catch up. After my surgery in December, there is a real chance of remission by early 2027.
If you can donate today, please help me keep my home. You don’t have to cover a whole bill for your gift to matter. Each donation helps close the gap.
If you can’t give, please share this page with a few people and a personal note. If you know someone who needs my design experience, a connection to paid work would help, too.
I’m still here, and I love life. Thank you for being here.
With love and gratitude,
Abi
Left: Mocha loves to sleep next to my head. Middle: My first day at the Stanford infusion center, tethered to the IV pole for over six hours. Right: Michaël in the front, and Leo behind him; they love when I am resting in bed.
How can a former Apple product design lead, innovator, and creator of experiences enjoyed by billions find themselves in such a situation? In late summer 2024, I began experiencing unusual new symptoms—night sweats, muscle and bone pain that made restful sleep impossible. I wasn’t alarmed at first, attributing these annoyances to the hot weather and hormonal shifts, and thought that ice packs before bed would resolve the issue. Little did I know, these were the first signs of the most challenging period of my life: severe health emergencies, multiple ER visits, a difficult diagnosis, and chemo therapy.
Resting with Mocha and icepacks on my head.
Your support means the world to me. It protects my chance to heal, to keep my home and my three bonded cats, and to return to building something meaningful. Even small donations matter, and sharing this campaign with someone who can help makes a difference too.
Hope and beauty can coexist with hardship.
I’m still here, and I love life. Still writing, planning, creating, and determined to make this count.
With love and gratitude, Abi
PS: M31 & A. Aqua, if you read this, I’ll explain. Trust me, all will be well.






