Support Ginger's Family Through Cancer Battle

Help raise money for my dear friend, coworker and community member, Ginger, and her beautiful family. They lost their husband/dad only a few years ago and now Ginger is facing cancer for a second time. Please help support them with a donation to help cover food, medical bills, and cherished moments of family fun.

Update from Ginger as of 8/26/25:

Ginger vs. Cancer

I didn't want it to be true. I'm still not sure if I adjusted to knowing. I have cancer (lower case C, sorry, not Capitol C, cancer). Again. Cancer. A new mass in my upper esophageal area. Not operable (I refuse to hear my surgeon's words "inoperable." The word makes it sound like there is no hope.) I have not yet asked them to elaborate on this.

In late May, we were told that the suspicious mass my GI doctor had tested during an upper esophageal dilation was, in fact, cancer. The next PET scan confirmed the diagnosis and my GI doc had to, again, deliver news to Shawn and me that the cancer came back. I allowed my body to go on autopilot. As I was and am still criss crossing the five stages of grief, simutaneously, I am chaotically grieving my loss. The loss of MY LIFE as I thought that it was supposed to go. Grief for "my normal" life. Anger-rage-doubting-double anger-double rage-depression-etc. Wait! I think I missed some (denial-bargaining-acceptance).

Anyway, the same team was back together again; radiologist, GI doctor, GI surgeon, oncologist, nurses and technicians from each department, the bronze statue of the lady giving out bread in the entryway (all of these places in my hometown, Everett), the 2nd opinion from Fred Hutch (Seattle), Shawn and me, Bothell. Here was our collective chosen plan: 6 rounds of chemotherapy, 32 days of radiology ***goal is to eradicate this tumor completely, totally undeniably dead tumor. No more. The chemotherapy in this situation is helping as a back up to this very aggressive approach of radiation. So this time it is the radiation supporting the chemo.

I just finished my Very Last Radiation Treatment yesterday. It was a low key kind of day, I slept almost the whole day. I wear a mask wherever I go. I give hand sanitizer away like candy. I give myself and the people closest to me a place for me to vent. And understandably, I also end up hearing other people's venting as well.

2025 summer will be known as the not a vacation summer break, not a break, more like its half broken and the other half is on fire.

Now on my first day NO radiation, I sit, sleep, get exercise, then wait. WAIT to know if any of this worked how we expected it to or not. The thing about cancer in the upper esophageal area is that it is inoperable. The space is too delicate. I was happy being able to get the radiation in that area, in the beginning there were talks of not doing radiation up there, but it was better than the alternatives.

This is the mask I wear during radiation visits. I am pegged down in this hardened mask so that they can be as accurate as possible and for the radiation to only attack that teeny tiny spot. They had to mold a huge flat hot plastic to my face and shoulders and that's what I've been using everyday for weeks and weeks.