Sometimes, to be brave, you have to ask for help...

Hey, it's me Kristan and in 2013 when I was 40, I started on a journey no one wants to find themselves on. 

Mid year, I was bloated and dealing with really bad heartburn. I went to my doctor to see what could be done. She took one look at me and thought I looked extremely pale. Now, I'm a redhead and have fair skin and freckles. I'm always pale. She probed and asked questions, was I tired? Yes. All the time. I wake up and want to take a nap. I'm bloated and look like I'm pregnant. My period is doing all sorts of crazy things. I left the appointment with orders for blood tests and instructions to start taking iron.

I started on the iron, had all my blood work done, had a customer at my retail job ask when my baby was due, (Um, what?!?) and waited. It turned out I was anemic. More iron. Wait and retest. 

Still anemic. Still fatigued. Still bloated. Heartburn? Yep. Period still not regular. What is going on?

I came back from that second appointment with a referral to a specialist.

More tests, more observations, more iron. My anemia was not improving. I just want to nap all the time. There had to be something else that was not showing up in my lab work. Onto the scans.

The scans revealed a mass in my pelvic region. I was scheduled for a biopsy.

When the results were in, I was called back. I heard the words no one wants to hear. You have ovarian cancer.

Um, what? I was shocked, stunned. All of the emotions, My Dad was in the car waiting for me. How was I gonna tell him this? I was a zombie. Everything after that moment was a blur. 

I was referred to a gynecological oncologist. He did the actual surgery in December of 2013. Everything was removed in what they call a debulking surgery. (My ovaries, uterus, cervix, Fallopian tubes and omentum.) Fluid around my lung was drained. That fluid contained cancer cells, making my ovarian cancer stage 4.

I was able to recover a bit and celebrate the Holidays with my Dad and dogs. I received the best present one could ask for.

I was alive.

My fight was not over, it was just beginning. In January I started six rounds of chemotherapy.

But you know what? I did it. I fought hard, I was brave and I made it through.

Almost 7 years with no evidence of disease! I thought I was cured.

2021. Fatigue has returned. There's a heavy feeling of something inside of me. And the anxiety? It's not "normal" anxiety, combine pandemic anxiety which has hit me particularly hard and then this, "is it back?" anxiety. I was a wreck.

My Dad, my rock through all my appointments, through my entire cancer journey is not here with me. He passed away in 2018. It's just me and the dogs.

The beast IS back. There's a large grapefruit sized mass inside of me, sitting on my lower bowel. And I'm fighting. Fighting with everything I've got.

I've already been through six rounds of chemotherapy, and waiting on scans and insurance to get this next round of treatment started. (Surgery? More chemo? I'm not sure yet.)

But I need help -- help with medical costs and day to day expenses.

And so, I'm doing what's hard for me, while trying to be strong and brave and humble all at the same time: asking for help. Whatever you can spare, or even just sharing my story, would be a blessing and mean the world to me.

Thank you so much.

And don't forget to be brave.