Debbie Bryson is a saint. She is the best grandma, mother, and wife. She is also really, really short, but I guess that’s neither here nor there. Back in November of 2025, Debbie started hobbling along like a dog that needed to be put down. We decided that the humane thing to do before turning to euthanasia was to get her a CT scan.

Surprise! The CT scan showed extreme deterioration from cancer in her pelvis. After a PET scan, the doctors found cancer in her ribs, C1, and thought maybe they saw something on her breast. We waited for a biopsy and were shocked to find out that it was stage 4 breast cancer. This was the worst surprise of our lives, which is saying a lot because we lived through that Milli Vanilli fiasco.

Debbie is the sole provider of her family of four and cannot work right now. The cancer has attacked her hip to the point where she could easily break it. As the saying goes, her hips don’t lie—you can tell by the way she’s walking that it would be very dangerous for her to do anything besides sit at home and watch HGTV for the next few weeks. She has started a chemo pill and did a bajillion rounds of radiation to hopefully kill off that cancer and allow her hip to strengthen.

When it rains, it pours. Yesterday we found out that Debbie will need a new furnace. That’s not a euphemism; she literally needs a new furnace in her house.

Debbie is always around to babysit, pick up shifts at Walmart, or cheer people up with a funny message. It’s her turn to be taken care of. She has enough to worry about with her cancer. We greatly appreciate any donations or shares of this post.