This is Scarlet, this campaign is for Jay, my other half, who about 3 years ago was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer.

Some people think cancer is like a cold: if you are lucky enough to get through it, you bounce back like nothing ever happened. Wrong. It is a lifelong disease. Your body is never the same. You have new health problems because of treatments that attacked the cancer. You aren't considered to be in remission until you are 3 years out of treatment. You aren't considered "cured" until you are 5 years out. But the fear never leaves you. Every time you face a new scan or test, you are filled with anxiety.

We have had the struggle of a lifetime over the last few years. We've held on this long..but unfortunately we were hit with some unexpected medical bills this month and everything came at us at the same time. Because of the damage from side effects of radiation treatment he needs another surgery and other treatments.

Things have always been tough, but we have gotten through it on our own, and always helping others, participating and volunteering for charities, and avoided doing a GoFundMe page like this. Like me, Jay has been taught to be proud. But right now, we really need the support from family and friends.

Here is our story.
Jay was misdiagnosed for a year and a half prior to getting the diagnosis. We had seen multiple doctors, he had been to emergency rooms, he had been taken to the hospital by ambulance with blood coming out of his throat. We heard everything from "You must have swallowed something sharp" to "stomach ulcer", and "pulled neck muscle".
Finally, when the side of his neck swelled up and after an entire night and day sitting at the emergency room (with staff telling us to go home because nothing was wrong with him), biopsies, and exams, we got hit with the awful news. Stage 4b cancer. The swelling in the side of his neck were swollen lymph nodes and tumors. When they called the head surgeon in for a consult she looked at his scan and covered her mouth with her hand. We asked what stage 4 was. Like most people, we knew very little about cancer. Months, they said. They gave him months to live. The doctor said “This is the end of the line”.

From then on, the long journey began. He began Cisplatin treatments (platinum chemo), and a series of 30 radiation treatments. The tumors were aggressive, but the treatments were worse. He landed in the hospital with a rock bottom white blood cell count, fever, and nonstop vomiting, and had to endure a painful treatment that drew white blood cells out of his bones. He had biopsies, surgeries, long stays in the ICU. At one point we spent more nights sleeping in the hospital than at home. His heart raced from the steroids they gave him. We were afraid he would have a heart attack. He had burns on his neck and face from the radiation treatments. He had mouth ulcers that bled. His throat was so raw he could not eat. Even water was painful to swallow. He went from 192 pounds to 129 pounds in just a couple of months. He was so frail I was afraid to curl up on the hospital bed next to him, even when he asked me to. The toxins in his body made his bad kidneys worse, and he passed kidney stones while going through treatment. All through the treatment, he would joke with his doctors and nurses. He would talk to other patients. He would help other people that were in better shape than he was. He had always been the one to make everyone laugh. He refused to let cancer change him.

Then one day the worst thing happened. He tried getting out of bed to brush his teeth. His body would not obey him, he came to me trying to speak and could only manage groans. He fell over and could not hold himself up. His body had stiffened up on one side and I could not even help him get dressed. After an ambulance ride to the hospital we were given 3 possibilities: the cancer had spread to his brain, he had a brain infection, or he had had a stroke. More waiting...more exams. I went to his bedside when they let me see him, he tried to tell me he was sorry. I couldn't believe he would think to be worried for me...it still brings tears to my eyes. When the doctor came in, we got the horrible news: he had had a stroke. They believe either the chemo or radiation had caused a blood clot that went to his brain. They pointed at two spots in his scans, about the size of a quarter. “You can get through this”, I told him. “I just know you will”.

After the stroke they thought it was too risky to continue with chemo, so they switched him to Erbitux. Erbitux was awful. It caused even more painful side effects. His skin reddened with a painful rash and peeled. He still had to endure radiation treatments that burned his skin even more. Every day they put the mouth trays in his mouth, bolted his mask to the table, and strapped him in for his daily radiation treatment, he had to try not to throw up from the nausea chemo caused. When he did, he would choke, and he would have to start the whole thing again.

But somehow, we got through it. I would try to keep his spirits up. Once the worst had happened, I told him “The worst part is over, it can only get better” or “Someday this will all be in the past”. “Every day you are getting better. Every second. You can do this.” "Don't leave me" I told him.

When he slept I would worry his heart would stop. I was afraid to fall asleep. I was terrified I would wake up and he would no longer be there. The days were agonizingly long, and the nights longer. It was terribly lonely. Nobody understood. Even friends who meant well had stories of "My cousin/aunt/neighbor/etc. had that, she died". If it was hard for me to hear, it must have been ten times harder for him.
I couldn't imagine how Jay was suffering. How other people could go through this.

When Jay finished chemo and radiation, they told us the tumors in his neck had shrunk to about half their size. He needed surgery. Six months later he went in for a modified radical neck dissection. He was as usual making everyone laugh as they prepped him for the OR. He was in surgery for 8 hours. The doctors cut out the lymph nodes and tumors, and the muscles and nerves that had grown onto them. They saved the ones they could. There was the risk because the tumor was in such a dangerous area in his neck. When I got the call from his doctor letting me know he was out of surgery, I thought I would pass out in sheer gratitude. But we knew so little about what this surgery meant, and what it would do.

The neck dissection caused even more health problems. It causes the right shoulder to be in constant pain, to slump forward. Most of the muscles and nerves were cut or removed. The muscles in his neck and shoulder are in constant spasms and pain, and he developed lymphedema in his neck and face. His neck muscles and tongue seize up and make it hard to talk. Every time he eats, he chokes. Just a few months ago they found growths in his right lung, but they tell us they are non cancerous. His thyroid was damaged from radiation and he needs medication to help with the exhaustion and fatigue it causes. Every time he goes for scans, we hold our breath. He lives every day in pain, and he struggles with this new life.

But nothing could keep him down. He was on the track for Relay for Life just a week out of surgery.
We are unbelievably grateful and blessed that he is alive. They gave him months to live and a Stage 4b diagnosis. He has had it really rough...but he is the best case out of a horrible situation. He beat the odds that they thought he could not beat. To people that have not gone through a life changing situation, it sounds so cliché. But every day is a gift. We just celebrated his birthday. When I lit the candles on the cake, I couldn't stop smiling. Another birthday. Another year they said he would not have. Things get hard, but that is something we could never take for granted. We are changed people.
I am so grateful to have you in my life, Jay. You are my love, best friend, and constant reminder that I have a lot to be grateful for. Thank you for finding the strength to not leave me.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read our story. If you can't donate, we understand. Please share this story. We hope it can help somebody else who is going through a difficult time like we have. We want everyone to be grateful for the loved ones they still have in their lives. We want people to know that there is ALWAYS hope, even when it looks like there is nothing left. <3