Nicole’s Cancer Treatment

Dear Family and Friends,

I never thought I'd be the one writing something like this. Honestly, it’s the kind of thing you always think happens to someone else — until one day, it’s your family. It’s your wife. It’s you.

Over the past ten months, my wife Nicole — or Coley, as most of you know her — has been fighting a battle we never saw coming. What started out looking like a stubborn case of the flu turned into a nightmare of endless tests, specialist visits, surgeries, and months of no answers. We lived in limbo, carrying fear and frustration every single day.

Finally, we got a name for the monster we’re up against: a rare type of cancer called nodular lymphocyte-predominant Hodgkin lymphoma (NLPHL). On top of that, Nicole has type B symptoms — and an even rarer, more aggressive cellular pattern.

Hearing those words shattered us. But Coley, being who she is, squared her shoulders and said, “Okay. What’s next?”

Before all this, we were just stepping into a new phase of life. Two of our kids are in college now, and our oldest is out in the world, working hard and finding his way. We had just reached that bittersweet "empty nest" moment — a little sad, but mostly full of pride. We thought this would be the summer we finally moved out of California, bought our first home, and set down new roots in Tennessee. We had job transfers lined up. We had a dream we were ready to chase with everything we had.

Now, that dream feels farther away. Cancer has a way of putting life on pause, whether you're ready for it or not.

One of the hardest shocks came at Nicole’s first appointment after her diagnosis, when her doctor immediately pulled her out of work for at least six months. At the time, it was hard to understand why. Nicole is tough. We thought maybe she could work through it like we've seen others do. But after her very first round of chemotherapy — which includes a drug nicknamed "The Red Devil" — we understood. The chemo is brutal. The side effects are potent and harsh, and they hit almost immediately. Right now, she’s battling through her first cycle, with many more still ahead.

What we didn’t realize — what no one really tells you — is how much cancer costs beyond the treatments themselves. Insurance might cover the chemo, but it doesn’t cover the endless list of over-the-counter medications to manage side effects, the specialized foods to protect her immune system, or the random supplies and prescriptions that pile up week after week. Even small things — heating, cooling, groceries — cost more when you're stuck at home all day, fighting to feel halfway normal.

And through all of this, we’re still trying to keep some normalcy for our kids — supporting them through college life, celebrating their milestones, and helping them chase their own dreams even while ours are on hold. Those little things you do for your kids — the help, the encouragement, the extra care — they matter even more right now.

Staying here for treatment wasn’t an easy decision, but it’s the right one. Nicole’s cancer is so rare that even top specialists might only see a handful of cases a year. Her lead doctor at Stanford sees about 20 cases annually and is one of the top researchers in the field. Having him and his team in our corner gives Nicole the absolute best chance at beating this.

If you know us, you know asking for help isn’t in our nature. Coley and I have spent our lives trying to be the ones who show up for others — whether it was helping a friend move, fixing someone’s broken heater in the middle of winter, or lending a hand whenever we could. We've never been ones to ask. But now we have to.

We’ve set up a GoFundMe to help cover the growing costs of Nicole’s fight — from medical treatments and travel to all the hidden, daily expenses that don't stop piling up. If you’re able to donate — no matter how small — it would mean the world to us. And if you can’t give, sharing our story helps more than you know.

Nicole is fighting with everything she has — for herself, for me, and for our family. Every prayer, every kind word, every act of support fuels her strength to keep going.

From the bottom of our hearts — thank you for walking this road with us.

With love and gratitude,

Coley & Bear