Robert Williams Cancer Support
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Thank you for visiting our page. It's a bit surreal to sit here and write this. Reflecting on the past year is emotionally draining, painful and uncomfortable. Through the recent burdens however I have learned so much. We have learned so much. We have certainly grown substantially in strength. We have gained incredible spiritual endurance and have sown deeper roots within our own family and friends who have decided to sacrificially walk along side of us during this trying season. Therefore I can equally say that looking back there have been scattered blessings all along the way. For that we are grateful. And we are divinely lifted up.
But much of the journey has not been uplifting. Illness never is. So here I am, sincerely not knowing where to begin or what to say. Cancer isn't eloquent. So I suppose I will just jump right in and simply share my tired heart...with any and all imperfections. Please be gracious with me.
I will start with a little history. I am Kimberly Williams, Roberts fortunate wife of 11 years. Robert was born, raised and continues to live in Southern CA. Robert owns his own small business two hours from our home called Willow Springs Racing. It's a go karting school within the race track at Willow Springs Raceway. He hosts both social and corporate racing events as well as race car driving classes. It's his passion and where he thrives. However our greatest accomplishment and all our pride resides in our two beautiful sons, Kaiden (4) and Brady (1). They are a priceless portion of unconditional love, daily inspiration, joy and true strength. We love them a ridiculous amount. Those two little boys keep us going in every way imaginable. Now onto the un-fun part.
After a few months of unsuspecting symptoms, last August Robert was diagnosed with stage III Hodgkin's lymphoma at 32 years old. Roberts first pet scan showed that lymph nodes starting from his abdomen up to his neck had cancerous masses throughout. This came as an incomprehensible shock. Life was altered in an instant. Calendars completely erased. We sat frozen with our heads thick in a fog that only such a sudden and unseen diagnosis can bring. It felt like Roberts body betrayed him. We were angry. We were hurt. We didn't understand why. But asking why got us nowhere. Those first few weeks we felt out of body. Emotions drained us dry of any energy we could muster. Speaking for myself, functioning as a mother and wife felt plain impossible. If you know me at all, I'm slightly organized. But I didn't plan for this. I wasn't prepared. I didn't know what to do. Oh but I knew one thing. I was needed more than ever and we had no choice but to roll up our sleeves and fight. I chose to cling to my faith and God met me where I was at. He abounded.
Robert immediately began grueling ABVD chemotherapy treatments last August. This was an especially difficult process for us for many reasons. One of which being that these treatments left Robert feeling so ill it was very difficult for him to continue working through the treatments. He managed to do what he could but over time we have fallen behind. I am a stay-at-home mom raising our children therefore I do not have an income of my own to contribute at this time. Another difficulty we've experienced is that Roberts body is highly prone to infections. Both portacatheter's that were surgically placed in his chest at different times throughout his treatments caused infections sending him to the hospital on multiple occasions. Additionally he battled several illnesses throughout the winter months due to his compromised immune system. It was extremely difficult for us as a family to balance any potential germ exposure for Robert, but also keep knit as a close family throughout the chemo process. Timing had it that Roberts diagnosis last August fell a week before Kaiden's very first day of preschool (germs galore), Brady's first birthday and our 10 year wedding anniversary. Needless to say over the past nine months we have spent many many days living away from each other due to illness in our household which Robert cannot afford being exposed to. The separation has been very difficult for the boys. I must keep on top of being prayerful about this because bitterness can easily set in if I reflect and dwell on their own grief too much. I strive to focus on all the goodness that has come from this season.
Unfortunately Robert also experienced a hand full of allergic reactions to some of the medications used to fight off the cancer. Yet another hurdle. But after his third treatment was completed, he went in for another pet scan. Much to everyone's surprise, including his oncology team, the scan showed that ALL the cancerous masses were miraculously gone. His body seemed to respond immediately to the treatment and continued to show signs of great success. More shock. It was an emotional roller coaster. But the most incredible news. We gathered such encouragement from the oncology team as they positively shared with us the unusualness of Roberts body responding so early on in the chemo process. We were cautious but still reaped in the harvest of answered prayer. Big bold blessings.
As a precautionary we proceeded to complete the remaining nine chemotherapy treatments which concluded in April of this year. Every pet scan throughout those remaining nine treatment continued to show that the cancer was in fact demolished from his body. We continued reaping and our confidence grew in Roberts health.
Robert completed his very final treatment and pet scan in May of this year. We were in the midst of planning a celebratory party to share in the cancer battle we had victoriously won. But upon his final doctors appointment and days before Mothers Day, the most devastating news was shared with us that Roberts scan had not come back clear. His cancer had aggressively returned and had become stronger. He was re-diagnosed. This news was indescribable to receive, especially after we had built up our hope in the previous nine-months. It was a tremendous punch in the stomach that left us feeling that familiar feeling of betrayal by his body once again. We were back at square one despite the year of successful fighting. All that time, all that suffering, all those doctors appointments. We were worn out. All of us. It felt in vain. It was even harder to share the news with our 4 year old son Kaiden who had recently rejoiced by weeping that Daddys sickness was finally gone. Our family had to make a U-turn back into the woods which we had just gotten ourselves out of. An awful feeling of dread.
In the following weeks Robert and I met with his oncology team to discuss a new game plan and any options available to us. The team has decided on a much stronger form of chemotherapy called IGEF. It began immediately. Unlike Robert's previous chemotherapy treatments that were an outpatient procedure, these new extremely powerful treatments take place in the hospital at a minimum of six days at a time. Six solid days of chemo treatment. Six days of poison. I shake my head as I type this.
Because Robert had so many infections with the port-catheters during his previous treatments, we decided on using a pick line for these new treatments in hopes that all infections would stay away with a less invasive procedure. We began the first of four cycles of treatment just three weeks ago.
Due to some dangerous allergic reactions that Robert faced with some of the medications he was kept in the hospital for nearly two weeks. They have slightly altered some of his medications and adjusted chemo as needed. The black-and-white photo included on our page is an image of the children and I visiting him during the beginning of his most recent hospital stay for IGEF. Two days after that photo was taken he was too ill for visitors for the remainder of his stay. Also in that photo Robert has hair. It finally came back. But yesterday it all began to fall out. Again. I am a visual person and so the hair loss is a symbol of what's to come and since we've already traveled down this road its scary.
Assuming that the current chemotherapy treatment works, the next plan of action is for Robert to fly to Seattle for a stem cell transplant roughly at the end of August. This procedure takes nearly three months to complete and clearly has several dangers of its own. Once the transplant is a success, we should be finished. Many have asked about the possibility of radiation. This is not an option based on where the masses are located within his body. Several trial drugs are our last form of help if all the above fail.
The journey has been straining. And financial struggles are impossible to dodge. Robert was told by his oncologist that there is no way he will be able to work through these new treatments. That has proven to be true.
Despite the difficulty, through Roberts inspiring bravery, I gain strength and great admiration for such a man bearing the pressures of his circumstances: his health, his young family, his own business, our bills, life!
And this is where we are humbly asking for help. Above all else we are asking for your prayers. That is of most importance to us and we covet them. Thank you doesn't cut it to all those who have been steadfast in prayer from the beginning with us. For covering us in hugs, tears, calls, cards, visits, gifts, babysitting, flowers and food. We could not do any of this without your abundant support. Even your little acts of kindness do not go unnoticed. What can I say accept we love you all.
That leaves me to ask what I wish I didn't have to. If there is any other way that you feel called to assist with medical expenses and daily bills we carry that help would be a tremendous relief and so deeply appreciated. We recognize its an honor and a privilege to have this outlet to reach out to our friends far and wide. We promise to strive to be victorious in Roberts healthy comeback. And what a testimony that would be. But above all else, the battle has already been won and we won't forget that our victory's in Jesus!
Romans 8:37-39
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
But much of the journey has not been uplifting. Illness never is. So here I am, sincerely not knowing where to begin or what to say. Cancer isn't eloquent. So I suppose I will just jump right in and simply share my tired heart...with any and all imperfections. Please be gracious with me.
I will start with a little history. I am Kimberly Williams, Roberts fortunate wife of 11 years. Robert was born, raised and continues to live in Southern CA. Robert owns his own small business two hours from our home called Willow Springs Racing. It's a go karting school within the race track at Willow Springs Raceway. He hosts both social and corporate racing events as well as race car driving classes. It's his passion and where he thrives. However our greatest accomplishment and all our pride resides in our two beautiful sons, Kaiden (4) and Brady (1). They are a priceless portion of unconditional love, daily inspiration, joy and true strength. We love them a ridiculous amount. Those two little boys keep us going in every way imaginable. Now onto the un-fun part.
After a few months of unsuspecting symptoms, last August Robert was diagnosed with stage III Hodgkin's lymphoma at 32 years old. Roberts first pet scan showed that lymph nodes starting from his abdomen up to his neck had cancerous masses throughout. This came as an incomprehensible shock. Life was altered in an instant. Calendars completely erased. We sat frozen with our heads thick in a fog that only such a sudden and unseen diagnosis can bring. It felt like Roberts body betrayed him. We were angry. We were hurt. We didn't understand why. But asking why got us nowhere. Those first few weeks we felt out of body. Emotions drained us dry of any energy we could muster. Speaking for myself, functioning as a mother and wife felt plain impossible. If you know me at all, I'm slightly organized. But I didn't plan for this. I wasn't prepared. I didn't know what to do. Oh but I knew one thing. I was needed more than ever and we had no choice but to roll up our sleeves and fight. I chose to cling to my faith and God met me where I was at. He abounded.
Robert immediately began grueling ABVD chemotherapy treatments last August. This was an especially difficult process for us for many reasons. One of which being that these treatments left Robert feeling so ill it was very difficult for him to continue working through the treatments. He managed to do what he could but over time we have fallen behind. I am a stay-at-home mom raising our children therefore I do not have an income of my own to contribute at this time. Another difficulty we've experienced is that Roberts body is highly prone to infections. Both portacatheter's that were surgically placed in his chest at different times throughout his treatments caused infections sending him to the hospital on multiple occasions. Additionally he battled several illnesses throughout the winter months due to his compromised immune system. It was extremely difficult for us as a family to balance any potential germ exposure for Robert, but also keep knit as a close family throughout the chemo process. Timing had it that Roberts diagnosis last August fell a week before Kaiden's very first day of preschool (germs galore), Brady's first birthday and our 10 year wedding anniversary. Needless to say over the past nine months we have spent many many days living away from each other due to illness in our household which Robert cannot afford being exposed to. The separation has been very difficult for the boys. I must keep on top of being prayerful about this because bitterness can easily set in if I reflect and dwell on their own grief too much. I strive to focus on all the goodness that has come from this season.
Unfortunately Robert also experienced a hand full of allergic reactions to some of the medications used to fight off the cancer. Yet another hurdle. But after his third treatment was completed, he went in for another pet scan. Much to everyone's surprise, including his oncology team, the scan showed that ALL the cancerous masses were miraculously gone. His body seemed to respond immediately to the treatment and continued to show signs of great success. More shock. It was an emotional roller coaster. But the most incredible news. We gathered such encouragement from the oncology team as they positively shared with us the unusualness of Roberts body responding so early on in the chemo process. We were cautious but still reaped in the harvest of answered prayer. Big bold blessings.
As a precautionary we proceeded to complete the remaining nine chemotherapy treatments which concluded in April of this year. Every pet scan throughout those remaining nine treatment continued to show that the cancer was in fact demolished from his body. We continued reaping and our confidence grew in Roberts health.
Robert completed his very final treatment and pet scan in May of this year. We were in the midst of planning a celebratory party to share in the cancer battle we had victoriously won. But upon his final doctors appointment and days before Mothers Day, the most devastating news was shared with us that Roberts scan had not come back clear. His cancer had aggressively returned and had become stronger. He was re-diagnosed. This news was indescribable to receive, especially after we had built up our hope in the previous nine-months. It was a tremendous punch in the stomach that left us feeling that familiar feeling of betrayal by his body once again. We were back at square one despite the year of successful fighting. All that time, all that suffering, all those doctors appointments. We were worn out. All of us. It felt in vain. It was even harder to share the news with our 4 year old son Kaiden who had recently rejoiced by weeping that Daddys sickness was finally gone. Our family had to make a U-turn back into the woods which we had just gotten ourselves out of. An awful feeling of dread.
In the following weeks Robert and I met with his oncology team to discuss a new game plan and any options available to us. The team has decided on a much stronger form of chemotherapy called IGEF. It began immediately. Unlike Robert's previous chemotherapy treatments that were an outpatient procedure, these new extremely powerful treatments take place in the hospital at a minimum of six days at a time. Six solid days of chemo treatment. Six days of poison. I shake my head as I type this.
Because Robert had so many infections with the port-catheters during his previous treatments, we decided on using a pick line for these new treatments in hopes that all infections would stay away with a less invasive procedure. We began the first of four cycles of treatment just three weeks ago.
Due to some dangerous allergic reactions that Robert faced with some of the medications he was kept in the hospital for nearly two weeks. They have slightly altered some of his medications and adjusted chemo as needed. The black-and-white photo included on our page is an image of the children and I visiting him during the beginning of his most recent hospital stay for IGEF. Two days after that photo was taken he was too ill for visitors for the remainder of his stay. Also in that photo Robert has hair. It finally came back. But yesterday it all began to fall out. Again. I am a visual person and so the hair loss is a symbol of what's to come and since we've already traveled down this road its scary.
Assuming that the current chemotherapy treatment works, the next plan of action is for Robert to fly to Seattle for a stem cell transplant roughly at the end of August. This procedure takes nearly three months to complete and clearly has several dangers of its own. Once the transplant is a success, we should be finished. Many have asked about the possibility of radiation. This is not an option based on where the masses are located within his body. Several trial drugs are our last form of help if all the above fail.
The journey has been straining. And financial struggles are impossible to dodge. Robert was told by his oncologist that there is no way he will be able to work through these new treatments. That has proven to be true.
Despite the difficulty, through Roberts inspiring bravery, I gain strength and great admiration for such a man bearing the pressures of his circumstances: his health, his young family, his own business, our bills, life!
And this is where we are humbly asking for help. Above all else we are asking for your prayers. That is of most importance to us and we covet them. Thank you doesn't cut it to all those who have been steadfast in prayer from the beginning with us. For covering us in hugs, tears, calls, cards, visits, gifts, babysitting, flowers and food. We could not do any of this without your abundant support. Even your little acts of kindness do not go unnoticed. What can I say accept we love you all.
That leaves me to ask what I wish I didn't have to. If there is any other way that you feel called to assist with medical expenses and daily bills we carry that help would be a tremendous relief and so deeply appreciated. We recognize its an honor and a privilege to have this outlet to reach out to our friends far and wide. We promise to strive to be victorious in Roberts healthy comeback. And what a testimony that would be. But above all else, the battle has already been won and we won't forget that our victory's in Jesus!
Romans 8:37-39
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Organizer
Kimberly Price Williams
Organizer
Simi Valley, CA