Dearest friends and family,

Amy and I write to you now after much thought and reflection, with a certain amount of reluctance and with heavy hearts, to kindly ask for financial support in this difficult time. After so many of you, our loved ones, have reached out asking for ways to help us, Amy and I wanted to reach back out to you directly with this GoFundMe account. This platform also allows us to keep everyone informed with updates moving forward. Starting next week, I will begin chemotherapy again…

As most of you know, on February 18, 2024, the course of my life, and that of our families’, was upended when I was diagnosed with Colon Cancer Stage 2B with a tumor perforation (at 39 years old). What followed was a year filled with unexpected hospital stays, 911 house calls, a sudden onset of serious inflammatory bowel disease issues, three bouts of acute ileitis, ostomy bag complications, multiple gram-negative bacterial bloodstream infections/sepsis, four major abdominal surgeries, and an absolutely grueling chemotherapy journey fraught with complications (several of which I just listed here). Doctors, when I meet them, routinely remind me that I’m a “complicated case.” In all, I’ve spent over two months hospitalized.

In all honesty, as last year unfolded, Amy and I both noticed profound changes within ourselves as we each developed deep-rooted feelings of unease and apprehension about my health. However, after the ostomy reversal in December 2024, Amy and I finally began to feel some much-needed relief from all of the health uncertainties. We had energy, momentum, and decreased stress. I was even able to go back to working full-time at the kayak outfitter in mid-February for the busy spring season.

However, in May, we received very distressing news: a fast-growing malignancy in my liver had developed. I’m now up against an even more serious diagnosis: ‘Colon cancer Stage 2B metastasis to the liver’ (akin to Stage 4 colon cancer). A sense of shock came over Amy and I as we learned the condition is technically incurable. The oncologists and surgeons had seemed hopeful that disease progression wouldn’t happen, but they didn’t hide the fact that it could. There are a couple of basic facts in my case that increase the likelihood of metastasis: 1) the tumor in my colon perforated my intestinal lining, thus allowing the cancer to enter my bloodstream and circulate throughout my body and; 2) some of the specific genetic mutations/variations of my cancer are known to be associated with an ‘aggressive disease course.’ This term describes a cancer that grows and spreads rapidly with a tendency to keep coming back even after a seemingly successful treatment. Generally, this will be linked to a poor prognosis. Doctors, despite all of this, are still optimistic that the cancer can be managed effectively, if not possibly cured, due to medical advancements and the right treatment plan: surgery to resect the liver lesion, undergoing a course of chemotherapy, a possible clinical trial if the circulating tumor DNA in my blood starts to test positive again afterwards, and close monitoring throughout.

On July 30th, I underwent the surgery to resect the liver lesion, and it was successfully removed. There weren’t any additional cancer lesions found, fantastic news! Having just the one lesion show up is far better than if multiple lesions had.

 

The journey ahead in our ongoing effort to potentially cure my cancer is full of uncertainty, and likely, many difficulties, but we do know two things with certainty: 1) I have an inflammatory bowel disease that we are treating as ulcerative colitis. This is an autoimmune disease, and it complicates my cancer treatments. Basically, it increases my susceptibility to infections and acts to limit my therapy options; 2) It’s been well documented that I have a poor tolerance to the relevant chemotherapies. I encountered a multitude of significant side effects from the two types of chemo treatments I received in 2024. Initially, the plan was to complete 12 cycles of FOLFOX over six months, assuming everything went smoothly. However, after completing just four cycles (during which I had three hospitalizations) I contracted Klebsiella Pneumoniae. This is a severe bloodstream infection, and it necessitated the removal of my chest port. I then started a very similar chemotherapy regimen (CAPOX), but could only manage to complete three more cycles due to debilitating side effects and my doctor stopping the course. Here’s a small sampling of side effects: bleeding lips and large mouth sores all over my tongue and throughout my mouth, bleeding from open wounds that formed between each toe, extreme fatigue, complete numbness in my hands and feet, and a very low white blood cell count leading to multiple infections.

I mention all of this because, now, as I continue my fight against metastatic colon cancer, FOLFOX (followed by CAPOX if necessary) remains my only systemic treatment option. My collaborative team of oncologists plan to make even more ‘dose modifications’ this time around to hopefully make it possible for me to fully complete this course of chemotherapy without having too many delays along the way. Amy and I believe this can work, but of course, we have our reservations.

The past 1.5 years have been incredibly challenging for us, impacting us mentally, physically, and financially. Amy and I held onto the hope that 2025 would mark a fresh start for our family, but my diagnosis has forced us to reassess our plans yet again. After my liver metastasis was diagnosed, I’ve been unable to work due to added pain, surgery, and subsequent complications. Now, with chemotherapy beginning once again, I really need to prioritize rest, try to stay somewhat active but not overexert myself, focus on nutrition, and try to prevent infections. My doctors have strongly advised me to refrain from working for the time being and just focus on my health (especially due to my rich history of complications). While I cherish the added time spent with our children, I can't help but feel that a part of me is missing—the sense of purpose that comes from being able to provide for my family. As we face the reality of a full second year without my steady income, we turn to you with a humble heart, seeking your support. Your generosity will help cover the loss of my salary, medical bills, and maintain a sense of normalcy for our children.

We are deeply grateful for the love and encouragement you have already shown us. We kindly ask that you share our campaign within your networks, not just to help us, but to raise awareness about this awful cancer that impacts so many young families. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for standing by us.

With all our love and heartfelt gratitude, 

 

Chris, Amy, Tharon & Hollace Allen

According to the Colorectal Cancer Alliance:

Colorectal cancer remains one of the most common cancers. The American Cancer Society estimates that 154,270 people in the U.S. will be diagnosed with colon and rectal cancer in 2025, and 52,900 will die from the disease.

According to the Cleveland Clinic:

Colon cancer typically affects people aged 50 and older. Over the past 15 years, however, the number of people aged 20 to 49 with colon cancer has increased by about 1.5% each year. Medical researchers aren’t sure why this is happening.