TLDR: Bill Dooley is dying, and we need help.

In October 2022, we received the news that William “Bill” Dooley had the c-word. Cancer. Mantle Cell Lymphoma, a form of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. That Thanksgiving marked the final year we’d have my father with us during the holiday season without some form of treatment, and also marks the first year of some of the darkest humor that this wonderful family has used to cope with.

“I know it looks like a small tumor... but that’s my penis.”

“The tumors are from the one in my brain. Had it since a child. Why I’m so weird.”

“There’s a stage five Lymphoma but that’s for zombies and vampires.”

We have successfully and unsuccessfully gone through various treatments ranging from chemotherapy, BTK-inhibitors, and immunotherapy for the past four years. The specialist team at UCSF worked tirelessly to bring some form of temporary remission to my dad’s relentless cancer. But as time went on, his cancer evolved and became more aggressive. Summer of 2025 marked a resurgence after the second successful remission that lasted us only nine months. We began a new immunotherapy that early fall, which led to a month-long hospital stay, but finally, for the holidays of 2025, he was in remission, and this was to last for 15 months.

Sadly, and to our disappointment, six weeks later his cancer came back, and now it’s here to stay. Most of 2026, Bill has been at UCSF in the hospital and an extreme complication in February resulted in an intensive emergency surgery that changed Bill’s quality of life. He now has a colostomy bag and an additional open wound that must be continually drained from his internal tumors.

When getting his new hardware installed he asked the nurses, “How’s my butt, and is it wrinkly?” They said yes, and asked if there was pain. He said “No pain, but appearance is everything.”

This year alone, he’s had maybe 5 weeks that he’s been at home — total. April 26th, Bill decided enough is enough. He is done with the pain, oncology treatment plans, and hospital emergency rooms, and has chosen Hospice Care. In his words, “I want quality of life, I don’t care for quantity.”

This has been a long and heartbreaking journey to watch. Yet for Bill, despite this hell, he has always seen it as, “Well, this is just another adventure, and we have to approach it as such.” While there’s been false hopes and extreme setbacks, he continues to look for opportunities to land a wicked joke and catch a nurse or family member off guard with a gut-splitting laugh. His love has always been for his family and his people he calls friends, for nature and all her natural gifts, and for the kind people and strangers who will share with him jokes and moments of laughter.

We now have him home with his daughter, Sierra, and her mother, Catherine, assuming full-time caretaking responsibilities alongside hospice, close friends, and extended family visiting when they can.

In order to continue care for Bill’s remaining days, we are asking for any amount of a donation to go towards his treatment plan, food, supplies, housing, and specialized care to support the rest of the short time we have together. The medical expenses for his care have been immense, and we appreciate any relief you are able to afford us. Any leftover funds will be used to cover funeral expenses and donated to the American Cancer Society for Lymphoma.

If you know Bill, you know that he is an irreplaceable human being. To know him is to know humor. To know him is to know wisdom. To know him is to also know love.

As of April 30th: Bill is currently awake and lightly mobile with the help of a wheelchair. He is in little pain thanks to the treatment plan our Hospice team has him on, and we are doing everything we can to prepare for his transition into this last chapter.

The family thanks you for any donation towards our effort and support for Bill’s end of days.

With humble gratitude,

Dooley & Noceti Family