Help Me Keep Fighting

I never imagined I would be writing these words or asking people for help like this. But today, I’m putting my pride aside because I’m fighting for my life—and I need help.

In March 2020, my life changed forever.

On March 2nd, I was diagnosed with cancer. On March 17th, I learned that I had Stage 4 Adenoid Cystic Carcinoma. The cancer had started in my salivary glands and involved my right maxilla and right paranasal sinuses. It had engulfed areas around my skull and required an emergency, life-saving surgery.

On March 30th, 2020, I underwent a nearly 16-hour surgery at OHSU. This was at the very beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, when hospitals were shutting their doors to visitors and the world was facing something none of us had ever experienced.

I was the only surgery taking place at OHSU that day.

My husband had to say goodbye to me at the front doors of the hospital.

I walked through those doors knowing I was about to undergo a massive, life-changing surgery—and then I had to face everything that followed completely alone.

The surgery took the right side of my jaw, much of my palate, my main facial nerve, and involved my skull and surrounding structures. I spent my hospital stay fighting for my life without my husband or family beside me because of COVID.

After surgery, I went on to endure 33 rounds of high-pencil-beam proton radiation at Mayo Clinic in Arizona.

That was only the beginning of a journey I never could have imagined.

The cancer and the treatment left me with permanent changes that affect almost every part of my everyday life. I am paralyzed on the right side of my face. My jaw has closed in, making it difficult to eat, and I have to chew everything on the left side of my mouth.

I also desperately need dental work, including a tooth that needs to be pulled and a root canal, but because of the damage from my cancer treatment and radiation, I can’t simply go to a dentist and have those things done. The risks are much greater because of everything my jaw and surrounding tissues have been through.

My life looks very different than it did before cancer, but I’m still here.

I’m still fighting.

Unfortunately, my cancer has since metastasized to both of my lungs. I am living with incurable cancer, and that is something I have carried with me throughout this entire journey.

BUT GOD…

Those two words have carried me through more than I could ever put into words.

And until now, I can honestly say I have never been scared.

But this time is different.

On September 10th, we will find out whether the cancer has returned to the right side of my face and whether it has spread to lymph nodes on the left side of my neck.

That is what scares me.

Writing those words brings me to tears.

I’m sitting here drinking my coffee on my porch on a gorgeous Tennessee Sunday morning, trying to put into words something that is incredibly difficult to say out loud.

I have faced so much during this journey.

I have fought through surgeries. Radiation. Pain. Permanent changes to my face and mouth. Losing the ability to eat normally. Living with paralysis. And now, living with cancer in both of my lungs.

And still…

BUT GOD.

I believe there is still a purpose for my life.

I want more time.

I want more memories with my husband. More family moments. More laughter. More sunsets. More ordinary mornings drinking coffee on my porch. I want more of the little things that cancer has taught me are actually the big things.

I’m not ready to stop fighting.

The financial reality of cancer has become overwhelming.

We are living week to week and, honestly, day by day. I haven’t been able to work because of the migraines, pain and breakouts I’ve been dealing with, and Jim has had to miss work to be with me because I can’t safely go to the emergency department by myself.

In just the past 4–6 weeks, we’ve had four emergency room visits, with medical bills we’re facing totaling approximately $8,000–$10,000 before insurance. Even with insurance, there are always expenses that aren’t fully covered.

On top of that, we have our normal household bills, travel to Houston, lodging, food, gas, and ongoing cancer-related medical expenses. I have to be in Houston for five days of appointments, and with the travel, we expect to be away from home for approximately 10 days.

As hard as it is for me to ask, I need help.

I’m asking my family, my friends, people who have followed my journey, and even complete strangers who may simply see my story and feel moved to help.

If you are able to donate, every single dollar will make a difference. No donation is too small. Your help will go toward getting me where I need to be for my cancer care and taking some of the financial burden off our shoulders.

If you aren’t able to donate, please don’t feel bad♥️ There are other ways you can help that mean just as much.

Share this fundraiser.

Say a prayer for me.

Help my story reach someone who can help.

I know asking for help doesn’t make me weak.

It means I’m willing to do whatever I can to keep fighting.

I don’t know what the week of September 7th will bring.

I don’t know what the future holds.

But I know this:

I’m not ready to stop fighting.

I’m fighting for more time.

I’m fighting for more memories.

I’m fighting for my husband.

I’m fighting for my family.

I’m fighting for my life.

And most of all, I’m putting this fight in God’s hands.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story, for sharing it, for praying for me, and for helping me in whatever way you can.

From the bottom of my heart…

Thank you for helping me keep fighting. ❤️

~ Juli