Hello, my name is Cameron, and my fiancé (Elverth) and I were one month away from our 8-year anniversary when he was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer in April 2025. We were honestly blindsided. Even the doctors were baffled at how the seemingly healthy 38-year-old coming in for upper abdominal pain could have multiple tumors throughout his abdomen. While waiting for test results, we started chemotherapy treatment with the hope that the tumors would shrink and maybe he could go into remission one day. Unfortunately, the results came back as a very aggressive, mutated strain, and we were given the news that this would be terminal.

They said, "it's a bell curve" and "it's just an average," but the number they tossed around was 2 years. So little time to do all the things we wanted to do, but we were going to fight for as much time as we could. He took leave from work, and I drove him to every appointment and every consultation, made healthy meals, took notes, and did research.

Then in July of 2025, we were blindsided again. The home we lived in, his childhood home where his family lived and rented for the last 31 years, was being sold, and we needed to find somewhere else to live. Finding a new place close to work and a good oncology department was not a simple task, but we found a lovely place we thought we could make a home and signed the lease.

The next in this series of unfortunate events came as we learned my partner was being laid off in October. We also learned that if he stayed on leave he would lose his insurance, which we were relying on for his chemotherapy. So he came back to work, tired and weak but happy. We searched and applied to various job openings, but with his health declining we opted to quit our search and apply for SSDI. This of course meant a long waiting period for funds. In the meantime I happily took on all of our living expenses as well as his care.

I've always been an optimist, and he was the realist keeping my dreams grounded. Still we both wished for a bit of luck and tried to find the silver lining anywhere we could. Unfortunately luck was not on our side. His liver wasn't handling the treatments well, and to give it time to heal we delayed and tested and delayed and tested for months. By the end of November, new symptoms were popping up every day and we were struggling to manage. I had to convince him to go to the emergency room when his pulse stayed extremely high for several days.

After that it all happened so fast, there was no time for any aid to go through, or even any time to take a breath and process. December 9th, I took my fiancé to the ER. December 11th, we celebrated him turning 39 while in the hospital (the only thing he asked for was a Blooming Onion from Outback which his brother brought him). December 17th, he came home on hospice care. And December 24th, he passed.

My fiancé was kind and passionate; we both worked in homeless services. He was funny and smart. He was laid back and had an easy smile for everyone who spoke to him. He was patient, a good teacher, and he made the best sweet potato pie. He even donated his body to research because he wanted to do some final good in this world and help further our knowledge on rare cancers, especially in young patients. He was the light of my life and the other half of my soul.

All this to say, there's two reasons I decided to create this fundraiser. One, his family is planning a memorial, the date dependent on whenever we receive his ashes from the research company. They've kindly taken over most of the planning and financial burden of that, but I would still like to contribute in some way if I can. The second is that I am now left alone with the shell of a life built for two. Our savings were depleted between moving house and his health care. There are some shared bills and debts that I am left responsible for, and a year-long lease on a mostly empty home I am locked into. I'm more fortunate than many, but I've been repeatedly told it's okay to ask for help for myself. That I don't need to struggle alone, and...I'm learning to admit when I am struggling. Our coworkers are some of the sweetest people I know, and they encouraged me to make this so they'd have a way to support.

To them, and to my book club besties, and our family members who have supported Elverth and I since the beginning, I send a special thank you. I could not have survived this without them.