Remembering Tiffs Fierce Fight
Donation protected
I've never written one of these before, and I hope to never have to again, so I apologize if this is too long. It says to tell your story, and this is it:
On Friday, April 17th, my big sister (Tiffany Barranco) lost her 2 year battle with cancer at 35 years old.
What started off as tooth pain and a routine wisdom tooth removal, turned into a 4-month long struggle to figure out the cause and cure for what was thought to be a bad tooth infection.
The day of Tiff's biopsy (June 2018), I'd gone about my day as I normally would. I was sure this was just a bad infection and today would just be the day we learn what was causing it and what antibiotics she needed to get better. I was at the gym early morning when my mom called me with the news. I crumbled to the ground and struggled to catch my breath as I tried to wrap my head around the fact that my sister, who was always so careful and conscious of what she put into her body, now had stage 4 oral squamous cell carcinoma. How could a 33 year old who never smoked have this kind of cancer? Or any cancer?! What did the road ahead look like for her? For all of us? It didn't matter though because she was going to be okay. She was going to get through this. There was no other option.
We found her medical team at Sylvester Cancer Center and she started her treatment. My mom quit her job so she could be by Tiff's side through it all and be her "driver" when Tiff was too weak or too sick to get behind the wheel of a car. Tiff continued to work for the two of them. As a publicist, she was able to do her job from just about anywhere. Even though that sometimes meant a hospital bed.
She had radiation every single weekday for 5 weeks with 3 chemo sessions scattered throughout. The hardest part for her wasn't the countless visits to the hospital or the endless poking and prodding though. Because of the location of the tumors and where the radiation was taking place, it made it nearly impossible for her to eat or drink or even swallow. Tiff was a foodie through and through, so not only could she not enjoy one of the things in life that made her happiest, but she was also growing weaker and weaker by the day.
She got through it though.
She would tell me I was her strength. She said every time she went in for radiation she would hear my voice telling her "It'll be okay. You can do this. It's only temporary." The truth is, I don't know if I could've done what she did.
In early 2019, we learned that while the tumors on her tongue and throat were gone, the cancer had metastasized. It had now spread to her lungs, hip and spine. The doctors were confident though that with targeted radiation and immunotherapy she would be okay. And for the majority of the year, that was true. She was starting to find her new normal and living life again.
As 2019 came to a close though, Tiff started to get worse. She started to lose weight again and she was having trouble walking. By the time the new year started, she was bed ridden and needed to be moved in a wheelchair. And she could barely eat.
We learned the cancer was back and it was aggressive. She needed to start chemo right away. But I was scared. Tiff was weighing about 90lbs, and I was worried what chemo might do to her. Her body was too weak for that poison.
But the plan was to get a round of chemo once a week for 8 weeks. Simple enough.
The first two sessions went well. She wasn't feeling nauseous, and the crippling pain in her hip was starting to subside. She was even gaining weight! This was going to work.
Two weeks later, she was in the hospital with 2 forms of the flu and pneumonia. Two weeks after that she'd gotten a feeding tube and was intubated for the first time. And two weeks after that she had to be reintubated and underwent a tracheotomy to avoid having to be intubated again.
You might think the situation sounded bleak, and it was, but I still believed she was going to get out of the hospital. That we could build her strength back up at home and get her back on track to continue treatment. But we didn't get that chance. Her heart stopped in the hospital as she gasped for her last breath.
As her best friend so beautifully put it, "To know her was to love her," and that was the truth. She was always down to do something fun. To go on an adventure. To try something new. You couldn't slow her down and her joy and passion for living life was contagious. Towards the end, she would tell those around her to "Do what makes YOU happy," and she lived by those words every day of her life.
I'm not sad because her life was cut short. Even at 35 she'd lived more than most of us can hope for. I'm sad because she's left me without the hope for what I know would have been a lifetime of many more incredible memories (and selfies to document it all). I'm sad because I miss talking to her about everything and nothing at the same time. I'm sad because she's left me without my first and forever best friend.
Today I'm asking that you donate whatever you're willing and able to help us pay off the medical bills and holistic treatments that piled up over the years, the cremation services we had done, and to help my mom get back on her feet after the loss of not only her first child, but also her roommate and financial supporter.
My mom and I are truly grateful for your kindness and generosity. Sending love & light your way.
*Any additional money raised will be donated to cancer research to help stop this horrible disease.
On Friday, April 17th, my big sister (Tiffany Barranco) lost her 2 year battle with cancer at 35 years old.
What started off as tooth pain and a routine wisdom tooth removal, turned into a 4-month long struggle to figure out the cause and cure for what was thought to be a bad tooth infection.
The day of Tiff's biopsy (June 2018), I'd gone about my day as I normally would. I was sure this was just a bad infection and today would just be the day we learn what was causing it and what antibiotics she needed to get better. I was at the gym early morning when my mom called me with the news. I crumbled to the ground and struggled to catch my breath as I tried to wrap my head around the fact that my sister, who was always so careful and conscious of what she put into her body, now had stage 4 oral squamous cell carcinoma. How could a 33 year old who never smoked have this kind of cancer? Or any cancer?! What did the road ahead look like for her? For all of us? It didn't matter though because she was going to be okay. She was going to get through this. There was no other option.
We found her medical team at Sylvester Cancer Center and she started her treatment. My mom quit her job so she could be by Tiff's side through it all and be her "driver" when Tiff was too weak or too sick to get behind the wheel of a car. Tiff continued to work for the two of them. As a publicist, she was able to do her job from just about anywhere. Even though that sometimes meant a hospital bed.
She had radiation every single weekday for 5 weeks with 3 chemo sessions scattered throughout. The hardest part for her wasn't the countless visits to the hospital or the endless poking and prodding though. Because of the location of the tumors and where the radiation was taking place, it made it nearly impossible for her to eat or drink or even swallow. Tiff was a foodie through and through, so not only could she not enjoy one of the things in life that made her happiest, but she was also growing weaker and weaker by the day.
She got through it though.
She would tell me I was her strength. She said every time she went in for radiation she would hear my voice telling her "It'll be okay. You can do this. It's only temporary." The truth is, I don't know if I could've done what she did.
In early 2019, we learned that while the tumors on her tongue and throat were gone, the cancer had metastasized. It had now spread to her lungs, hip and spine. The doctors were confident though that with targeted radiation and immunotherapy she would be okay. And for the majority of the year, that was true. She was starting to find her new normal and living life again.
As 2019 came to a close though, Tiff started to get worse. She started to lose weight again and she was having trouble walking. By the time the new year started, she was bed ridden and needed to be moved in a wheelchair. And she could barely eat.
We learned the cancer was back and it was aggressive. She needed to start chemo right away. But I was scared. Tiff was weighing about 90lbs, and I was worried what chemo might do to her. Her body was too weak for that poison.
But the plan was to get a round of chemo once a week for 8 weeks. Simple enough.
The first two sessions went well. She wasn't feeling nauseous, and the crippling pain in her hip was starting to subside. She was even gaining weight! This was going to work.
Two weeks later, she was in the hospital with 2 forms of the flu and pneumonia. Two weeks after that she'd gotten a feeding tube and was intubated for the first time. And two weeks after that she had to be reintubated and underwent a tracheotomy to avoid having to be intubated again.
You might think the situation sounded bleak, and it was, but I still believed she was going to get out of the hospital. That we could build her strength back up at home and get her back on track to continue treatment. But we didn't get that chance. Her heart stopped in the hospital as she gasped for her last breath.
As her best friend so beautifully put it, "To know her was to love her," and that was the truth. She was always down to do something fun. To go on an adventure. To try something new. You couldn't slow her down and her joy and passion for living life was contagious. Towards the end, she would tell those around her to "Do what makes YOU happy," and she lived by those words every day of her life.
I'm not sad because her life was cut short. Even at 35 she'd lived more than most of us can hope for. I'm sad because she's left me without the hope for what I know would have been a lifetime of many more incredible memories (and selfies to document it all). I'm sad because I miss talking to her about everything and nothing at the same time. I'm sad because she's left me without my first and forever best friend.
Today I'm asking that you donate whatever you're willing and able to help us pay off the medical bills and holistic treatments that piled up over the years, the cremation services we had done, and to help my mom get back on her feet after the loss of not only her first child, but also her roommate and financial supporter.
My mom and I are truly grateful for your kindness and generosity. Sending love & light your way.
*Any additional money raised will be donated to cancer research to help stop this horrible disease.
Organizer and beneficiary
Heather Barranco
Organizer
Hammocks, FL
Elaine Barranco
Beneficiary