Dearest Friends, Family, and Compassionate Hearts,

I never thought I would be writing a letter like this. I recently received the frightening news that I have been diagnosed with Stage 3 Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer. It feels surreal, overwhelming, and honestly, terrifying.

I want to be transparent: as I look toward the next few months, I am already feeling so deeply exhausted, defeated, and overwhelmed. It’s hard to face this massive undertaking when I feel like I'm sinking under the weight of it all. On top of the physical challenge, the anxiety about the financial impact is a constant, heavy cloud, making it incredibly difficult to focus on healing.

The Journey Ahead: A Gentle Hand Needed

My critical 7-week treatment journey is set to begin very soon, starting this Monday, November 17th, 2025.

A Big Monday: My port will be placed on November 17th, 2025, and treatments will begin immediately after.

The Schedule: I will be going in for radiation five days a week (Monday through Friday) and chemotherapy one day a week. This will then be followed by treatment with immunotherapy.

This path is intense, and my greatest need is simply to be able to rest and gather my strength without the constant stress of how I will manage everything else.

Asking for Grace and Support

As many of you know, I am retired and live on a very modest Social Security income. Simply put, I do not have the resources to shoulder the mountain of costs that come with fighting cancer, especially while trying to keep my household running. Being single and on a fixed income has made this situation feel almost impossible.

My wonderful daughters are ready to help with love and support. My heart aches because one lives far away in Pennsylvania, and the other, while close by, works full-time and cannot be here every day to care for me.

I am reaching out with vulnerability, hoping to raise $5,000. This is not just money; it is a lifeline that will allow me to trade worry for rest.

What Your Kindness Will Cover:

Daily Comfort and Care: The majority of these funds will go toward hiring gentle, part-time help for crucial tasks, ensuring I am cared for when my daughters cannot be there. This includes:

Cooking simple, nourishing meals

Light house cleaning and help with laundry

Running errands and getting me to and from appointments

General companionship and safety monitoring

Easing Medical Costs: Helping to cover the continuous flow of deductibles, medication co-pays, and other unexpected medical expenses.

Peace of Mind: Allowing me to cover basic living costs without panic, knowing I can keep my focus on my health.

You Are My Light



If you can offer anything at all—a donation, a word of encouragement, or simply sharing this campaign—you will be giving me a truly profound gift: the ability to face this fight with a little more peace and a little less fear.

Thank you for holding my hand on this difficult road. Every bit of support is a reminder that I am not alone.

With Love and Hope,

Debbie