Beau's Miraculous Battle with Cancer

I'll just come right out and say that cancer sucks bad.

It's exhausting to battle. It's draining mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically. And it's expensive as heck to fight.

A few other things that suck bad include: going without food and water for 248 days in a year, over 10 trips to the OR, multiple run-ins with life support and ventilators, sleeping on hospital beds as a patient and caregiver, requiring round-the-clock home care that isn't fully covered by insurance, not being able to hold your babies when they cry, spending holidays, birthdays and anniversaries in a hospital room, only spending time outside for four weeks this year, leaving the providing and security requirements of your family to a home alarm system and badass wife...there's a long list obviously...but this has been Beau's 2024 and will likely be most of his 2025.

You want to know what DOESN'T suck? Well: finding out you're going to live, for one, for two, holding your perfectly healthy, newborn baby because you've woken up just in time from a 28 day coma, making lifelong friends of the nurses and therapists that dedicate their lives to giving yours back, smiling when a therapy dog like Scarlett, makes it into your room to snuggle you, talking to your mama for the first time after intubation, building Legos with your nephews, using your hand for the first time in 4 weeks to write your wife a love note on a post-it, seeing your babies in their Halloween costumes, finding out that hundreds of long-distance friends came together to surprise you with a PS5 or a check to take the financial burdens off your wife for a little while, hearing that you can have a sip of water, every hour, after not being able to drink for 142 days in a row, meeting your newborn nephew on Facetime, watching your grown nephew march in the Mississippi State Marching Band Halftime Show, enjoying quiet, alone time with your wife on her birthday, even if for only an hour before night meds and breathing treatments, praying with your baby girl on Facetime before bed, watching her walk for the first time, seeing her run to you in the hospital bed, where you weren't sure she'd even recognize you...I mean...clearly, there's a ton more to be happy about. And we thank God every. single. day. for all of it.

Beau is a miracle. There's no way around it. His case and multiple rehabilitations continue to overwhelm his medical teams and providers. He should not be alive today. We've heard this on multiple occasions. But here he is. And we're so incredibly grateful to God.

Beau's strength, fortitude and power forging ahead through immense suffering is the stuff of novels and film. On more than one occasion, I've been told to begin writing a screenplay about his story from this year because it's hard to believe.

Everything's hard. All of it. It's hard to believe. It's sometimes hard to hear, watch, see. Hard to fight. Hard to swallow. Hard to fathom how I'm still making it, as his wife. It's been hard financially and organizationally. It's hard to manage the home. It's hard to work.

And...it's STILL hard for us to come to a crowdfunding source for funds to help with home caregiving, bills on bills on bills, supplies, comforts, travel for caregiving family members, unpaid time off from work and medicine.

But we need what we need. We can't help it. The goal has been raised to $75,000 since a large majority of the previously raised funds have already been depleted for the list above. As of 6/26/2025, Beau is currently fighting his terminal cancer by any means necessary and taking his healing one day at a time.

If you've donated once, thank you. If you've donated twice, thank you thank you. If you've donated weekly or monthly, thank you thank you thank you. More than donations sometimes, those who've donated their time, their resources, their energy, their cooking skills, meals, groceries, things to make us laugh and be entertained, their connections...those things make a difference too. Those who've shared Beau's story over and again and continue to leave encouraging notes of love and peace, those make a difference, please don't stop doing that beautiful work. It is life altering and matters to us more than we can express.

When the dust settles, we're still planning to throw a big ole party so we can hug each of you a hundred times. In the meantime, please follow me (Gina Francesca White) on Facebook for updates as soon as we can provide them. We're taking it one day at a time and love you all more than you know.