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Hi, my name is Steven Moularas, I am 34 years old and I’m sharing this with a heavy but hopeful heart.
I was diagnosed with Stage 4 testicular cancer just over a year ago. It came fast and hit hard, a highly aggressive, fast-moving germ cell that had already spread to my liver, lungs, lymph nodes and adrenal glands by the time we caught it. Since then, we’ve thrown everything we have at it.
- I’ve undergone 4 rounds of VIP chemotherapy, after which new metastasis was found in my spine and brain (which included a stint in ICU and countless hospital admissions over the 4 months of treatment)
- 20 hours of gamma knife radiosurgery (In a 2 week period to curb the spread in my brain before)
- 5 rounds of high-dose TICE chemotherapy with stem cell transplants (roughly 17 weeks worth admitted to hospital)
- 10 sessions of whole brain radiation.
Every treatment was a shot at more time.
Time to live, love, laugh, and maybe even defy the odds.
But recently, I was told what everyone feared: my cancer is now terminal.
Despite the brutal journey, I’m still here, still standing, still stubborn and defiant as ever. “If I’m going down I’m going swinging”,
I’m still trying to live my life with some meaning, humour, and purpose.
But this lengthy battle has taken its toll, my muscles and stamina, the conditioning of my body and my finances are drained and depleted after a year of constant fluid retention from chemo, endless admissions, with the largest break being just mere weeks between treatments.
I’m now shifting focus.
From just trying to survive to trying to make the most of the time I have left as well.
cancer has taken everything from me, a full year of my life, my future, time with my beautiful fur baby Jellybean, and my fantastic beard!
I’m starting this GoFundMe to help with:
- Palliative and home care to keep me comfortable when the time comes
- Mobility support and end-of-life planning
- Funeral arrangements
- Travel to spend precious time with family and friends and experience the world while able
- Covering everyday living costs while I can no longer work
If you know me, you know I’ve faced all this with stubbornness, dark humour, a tiny hint of sarcasm (OKAY ALOT!) and a refusal to let cancer take away who I am.
I still joke, I still create, and I still hope to squeeze joy from every day I’ve got left- but I can’t do it alone.
If you can donate, thank you truly. If you can’t, sharing this page means the world. Every bit of support helps me face what’s ahead with peace, dignity, and the love of those around me.
Many thanks
Steven