<div>My name is Walker Russell, and I was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer when I was 17 years old. I’m 18 now, and I’ve spent a year in the hospital, including during holidays and special family events that I was unable to attend. Over the course of my chemotherapies, I’ve spent more time in a hospital bed than in my own room; more time with IVs and breathing tubes; more time while intubated and immobile than with family and friends. However, even after many exceptionally scary times, with faith and the amazing love of my family, and with the great support of the many doctors and nurses that have cared for me and literally saved my life, I am still here! And I am beating this cancer!
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>I am writing a small part of my story so I can share my cancer story with my family and friends, and to those of you now reading my post. Cancer hasn’t just affected me; it has affected my whole family. My parents have had to miss work, juggle bills, and stay strong for me even when I know they’re scared. My siblings have gone without school supplies, clothes, and the small extra things in life, like winter boots when we needed to have enough money to cover my medical bills. It’s the most expensive thing we’ve ever faced. We’re doing everything we can just to keep up with the costs of treatment, travel, and care. That means we have nothing left for extras, including for Christmas presents. As you read my story, I hope it’s clear that my family is very close and strong; and despite these hard times, we will come together and make the holidays feel like they used to.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Before my life was turned upside-down from cancer, I was a cross-country skier. I loved the rhythm of classic skiing, gliding over snow-covered trails with my friends and classmates, lungs burning, heart racing, and feeling alive. I was also in high school band and played the trumpet. Playing the trumpet and music in general gave me joy and a sense of identity, and while cancer took both of those things away, I am motivated to regain the dexterity in my fingers, strength in my legs, and the full lung capacity of my lungs to recapture my life once I beat cancer.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>It isn’t easy at all. The treatments are brutal. Chemotherapy isn’t just medicine; it’s poison that hurts in order to heal. It makes you nauseous, exhausted, and weak. Some days, I can’t even lift my head. I lost my hair, my strength, and sometimes, my hope. There were nights I couldn’t sleep because of the pain, and mornings I dreaded because I knew more pain was coming. It’s hard to describe what it feels like to be 18 and feel like your body is 80.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>But the hardest part hasn’t just been the physical pain. It’s isolation from my family and friends. I haven’t seen most of my friends in over a year. I’ve missed school dances, cross-country skiing matches, and my favorite - music jam sessions. Unfortunately, I am surrounded by hospital walls and the loud hum of machines. I miss laughter. I miss being a teenager. I miss being me. And I hurt for my family who are also experiencing the hardest challenges of their lives as I battle cancer with them at my side!
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>That’s why I started this GoFundMe page. I’m asking for your help; from my family and friends, and from the community of people who understand that it takes a village to raise a family. Please help me and my family. I want to give my brothers and sisters and parents a Christmas they’ll remember. I hope to bring a little light into a year that’s been so dark. I want to feel like I can still give something, even when so much has been taken.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Please, open your hearts and help my family as much as you are able. I also ask you to share my story. I can’t do this alone—but maybe, with your help, I won’t have to.
</div>

Anonymous

sofia rodulfo

Konstantinos Ioannou

Ariana Beltran

Tom Spence

Konstancja Lewoniec

Ryan Chase

Itze’l Barrios

Tern Følbæk

Tatjana Kwiatkowski

Jayda Smith

Amonii Rivera

In Memory of Walker: Helping with His Cancer Treatment Costs

In Memory of Walker: Helping with His Cancer Treatment Costs

Still $1,379 to go. Help us build momentum.