I should be happy — but I’m at my wits’ end.

Update: September 30th, 2025

I’ve made it through 80% of my chemo. That should feel like a victory, and in some ways it does — but today I got hit with the next phase of treatment, and the weight of it is hard to process.

I’ve just been told I’ll be starting radiation therapy — specifically Pluvicto, paired with imaging. It’s a 36-week process that includes:

- 6 PET scans (positron emission tomography)

- 6 intravenous radiation treatments (Pluvicto)

Here’s the financial punch:

- PET scan copay: $300 each

- Pluvicto treatment copay: $377 each

That’s over $4,000 out-of-pocket — and that’s only for this phase.

And it’s on top of everything else:

- Zometa

- Prednisone

- Eligard injections

- Port flushes

- Entire days away from work

- Fuel costs just to get to treatment

I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do — I’ve paid every bill, I’m still fighting every insurance denial, and I keep working as much as I can — but this latest turn has stretched me to the edge.

I’m still fighting — medically, emotionally, and financially — but I’m exhausted. I’m sharing this because so many of you have helped keep me going, and I want you to know exactly where things stand.

Your support, prayers, and messages mean more than you know. They’ve kept me moving when I didn’t think I could. Thank you for standing with me through this fight.

Because of the extended treatment and growing costs, we’ve increased the fundraiser goal from $4,500 to $8,500. Every bit helps us keep going. Every share, every dollar, and every kind word makes a difference—for me and for my family.

With gratitude,

Mark (Salty)

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Fighting Cancer Without Going Broke

I planned for this. I thought I had it covered. What I didn’t see coming were the surprise charges no one talks about.

My name is Mark. I’m currently undergoing chemotherapy and hormone therapy for advanced metastatic prostate cancer. It’s in my lymph nodes and bones. From the moment I got my diagnosis, I prepared—mentally, nutritionally, and financially.

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We’ve managed to secure coverage for many of the big-ticket items — $2,500/month for Zytiga, $1,200/month for Eligard, $800 per infusion cycle for Taxotere. A new drug, Zometa, has been added recently for bone metastasis. We're still waiting to find out the actual monthly cost, but expected expenses are in the $1,200–$1,800 range. Another financial bridge we cross when we know for certain.

What we didn’t see coming were the “administrative fees.”

We walked into the first infusion expecting a $120 doctor visit copay—and got blindsided with nearly $300 in added charges. Just for walking through the door. The Chemo infusions alone are every 3 weeks.

And that’s not all:

• Port flushes billed as “separate procedures”

• Zometa infusions will require office visit out of pocket at $120 every 4 weeks.

• Eligard injections require office visit out of pocket at $120 every 30 days.

• Labs and surprise diagnostics

• Specialized nutrition, supplement and hydration supplies

• Costs that are denied or just quietly not covered

These hidden fees are soul-crushing.

They hit you when you're most vulnerable—and they add up fast.

I’m not looking for charity. I’ve saved and prepared for most of this.

I just need a small cushion to stay focused on healing instead of spiraling from unexpected costs.

I'm asking for $4,500 to fill those gaps:

• Administrative and infusion fees

• Injection visits and port maintenance

• Nutritional support during chemo

• Unexpected charges that land outside insurance reach

If you know me, you know I’ve approached this fight with clarity, honesty, and dark humor. I’ve done everything I can to handle it with grace.

If you can help—thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you can’t, please consider sharing this with someone who might.

Every little bit helps. It all adds up and could make a HUGE difference right now.

With gratitude,

—Mark (Salty)