Christine Starkey Needs More For Stage 4

It’s April 2025, and it’s pretty insane, but amazing that I am still alive! Sometimes I wonder if I was really alive until I felt things hard enough that would make most people want to die… Back in April 2016, my life was forever changed with a breast cancer diagnosis at the age of 29. I didn’t know then that my cancer was caused by a genetic mutation, BRCA2. After a year of chemotherapy, a double mastectomy with lymph node removal and radiation, I was NED (no evidence of disease) for over 6 years. During that time I was taking Tamoxifen, which would help reduce the high risk of my cancer returning while I tried to return to my old life.

Outside of cancer, from my diagnosis in 2016 up till now, my mental health struggled and continues to struggle. The people I surrounded myself with, including my parents, told me things like:

“You have to move on (unsolicited advice).”

“Other people have it worse than you (even though they should not compare others stories and are

minimizing my experience).”

“I know you don’t believe in god, but I’m praying for you (I’m an atheist and they use religious platitudes

at me, disrespecting my boundaries, without offering real help, empathy or acknowledging my

feelings).”

“If they didn’t know you had cancer, and they met you, they would never know it! You look so healthy

(because they don’t see the bad days or what’s going on with me mentally)!”

After cancer treatment, many survivors experience mental health challenges like anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic stress. These are common, and can manifest as persistent sadness, worry, or difficulty engaging in daily activities. The trauma I experienced from cancer, its treatment, and other traumas previously experienced, led to flashbacks, nightmares, and avoidance behavior. The post cancer medication I took, Tamoxifen, had side effects that put me into early menopause and those symptoms were also impacting on my mental health. It took a huge toll on me when all I wanted was to go back to my old way of living.

But despite mine and my doctors’ best efforts, my cancer returned and spread to other parts of my body. As of December 2022, I now have stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. My oncologist told me then that my life expectancy would be around five years, I may only have a few years left.

A lot has changed since becoming stage 4. I cannot work, I cannot run, all the changes in my body functions and body image have impacted my self-esteem and mental well-being. I struggle with pain and anxiety daily. My MDD (Major Depressive Disorder) and PTSD add to the pain and anxiety I experience. I’m not the same person I was. There are days I don’t like who I am and what’s happening to me. There are days when I can’t enjoy the sunshine, or even activities that I used to partake in. There’s a lot of stuff I used to enjoy that I just can’t do anymore. There are days I do nothing but sleep, because I’m either too sick, too sad, too tired, tired of my cancer battle.

Back in midsummer 2023, a few months after getting my stage 4 metastatic diagnosis, my parents kicked me out of their house despite saying that I “had a home with (them) as long as I wanted.” If I didn’t have a fiancé, I’d be homeless, but they didn’t care. My father, who is an alcoholic, would rake my mother over coals in a divorce (the only reason they remain married) which is why she chose him over me. Needless to say, my mother sided with my father’s desire to “drink himself to death without anyone bothering him." Watching my mother’s behavior toward me while helping my father remove me from the house as quickly as possible, I finally saw her, after years of abuse, I saw what she cared most about, her bottom dollar. It was so clear by her being spineless while, ironically, there’s literal cancer in my vertebrae.

Despite feeling so lost living with my parents, I was hoping for support, reassurance, safety and love. On top of all of that, I really needed money. My folks said funds were limited after my father lost his job and was forced to retire in May 2023. My mother told me I was “not allowed to create a GoFundMe to ask for money” while living with them. My parents didn’t tell me why, but she did say, “It’s embarrassing. Despite not wanting me under their roof, they still wanted me under their control, quiet and dependent on them. But what’s so embarrassing about asking for help? Why did they want to hold me financially reliant on them? Was their ego more important than my next co-pay for my cancer treatments?

There have been many changes in my life, both personally and medically, but things are calm now. Soon after being asked to leave my folks home, my immediate family kept breaking my boundaries I set for myself. To protect my mental and emotional well-being, I had gone no contact with parents and other family members since moving out and moving on at the top of 2024. Last year was a hardship between prioritizing my needs, routine and creating healthier relationships/friendships on top of managing my new normals and emotions in my new cancer journey. I’m focused now. I have goals now. I’m still struggling, but less so from unsupportive people I once called family. Change is hard, but seeing those who do still stand by your side for years through all of these changes is my true family.

My current cancer treatment is as follows: I take 2 pills a day (commonly known as KISQALI) for three weeks then off for 7 days to recover before starting up the pill regimen again. Once a month I check in with my oncology team to see if my vitals are doing good and to get three shots; one shot of ZOLADEX in my stomach to suppresses estrogen production, slowing down tumor growth, and two shots of FASLODEX in my lower back to block the effects of estrogen on hormone receptor-positive breast cancer cells by sitting in the estrogen receptors on the cells so they can’t attach to the cancer cell and the cell doesn’t receive estrogen’s signals to grow and multiply. Every three months I also receive ZOMETA, an infusion therapy for my bones to help manage current pain, prevent fractures, and address high calcium levels caused by my cancer that’s spread in my bones. As of today, these treatments are keeping my cancer at bay for the moment and hopefully will continue to work for a while. To date too, a treatment plan hasn’t lasted longer than a year, and changing four times since becoming stage 4 metastatic.

I just don’t have enough to live on my own, without asking others for help. I can’t medically work, no matter how much I would love to get back out there! What I get from my Social Security Disability barely covers my bills, groceries, medications, gas, etc; for there to be room for anything else. There’s so much FEAR and STRESS, and worrying about money, that should be the least of my worries, but I don’t have that luxury now. Long story short, I need your help! READ and SHARE my story, DONATE IF YOU CAN, and if you can, PLEASE stay with me until the end!

The last thing I will leave you with is this: These times are tough and although my John is strong and works so hard when I can’t, he is only one man. It was easier before my mom abandoned me as a caregiver (my father never was there), but John and I are learning it’s okay to ask for help. One of the hardest things growing up in my family was seeing my parents struggle and suffer, which in turn made my siblings and I feel helpless, and pretended everything was “fine”, normalizing the toxic environment. To this day my family lets pride get in the way of asking for help. It took me YEARS to know that the only mistake you can make is not asking for help when you are in desperate need of it.

REMEMBER: It’s okay to ask for help when you need it. Everyone needs help sometimes, and there's no shame in admitting that you can't do everything on your own.