My name is Nardeen Jaballa, and I’m 25 years old. In 2023, I received the devastating news that I had a rare and aggressive cancer called Synovial Sarcoma. I was terrified, but I fought with everything I had. I went through surgery, treatments, and endless hospital visits. I believed I had made it to the other side.

But recently, everything changed again. My cancer is back — and this time, it’s even more aggressive. It has spread to my lungs, and I’ve been diagnosed with stage 4 Synovial Sarcoma. Hearing those words at 25 is beyond heartbreaking. I had plans, hopes, and dreams like any young woman. I never imagined I would be fighting for my life — again — so soon.

Doctors have told me that my best chance for survival is to receive treatment at a specialized cancer center outside of Iowa, where they offer advanced therapies and expertise for rare cancers like mine. But there’s one huge problem: my insurance does not cover treatment outside my state. That means everything — consultations, scans, treatments, medications — must be paid out of pocket. And the cost is overwhelming.

I’m doing everything I can to stay hopeful, but the financial burden is crushing. I never thought I’d be in a position where I would have to ask others for help to survive. But today, I am. And I’m asking with all the courage and humility I have: please help me fight for my life.

Your donation — no matter the amount — will go directly toward my medical care. Whether it’s $50, $100, or more, every single contribution brings me closer to the treatment I urgently need. If you cannot donate, please consider sharing my story. You might reach someone who can.

This cancer has taken so much from me already — my health, my stability, and many of my dreams. But I refuse to let it take my life. With your support, I can begin treatment, fight back, and hopefully return to a normal life. I want to be able to grow old, to be with my loved ones, and to live without fear.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading, thank you for caring, and thank you — deeply — for any help you can give. You are giving me more than money — you are giving me a chance to live.