Historian Fighting Stage IV Breast Cancer

Hello.
 
My name is Chrissie Reilly Parker and I’m a historian for the Air Force and doctoral candidate at the University of Maryland Baltimore County (UMBC).

Unfortunately, I was diagnosed with stage IV metastatic breast cancer, and as a result have undergone 25 consecutive weeks of chemotherapy for treatment. I've responded as well as could be hoped for.  All things considered, I've been given a good prognosis; hoping for at least 5 years.  My continuing path of treatment includes undergoing  of another 6-12 rounds of chemotherapy to reduce the odds of recurrence, followed by daily pills for the rest of my life. 

This is me, getting round #24 of chemo. You almost get used to the absurdity of it... almost.

This was all very unexpected. On May 28, 2019, during what was supposed to be a routine biopsy for an infection, the doctor performing the procedure said, "This is likely cancer." She was right, and throughout June 2019, we learned just how bad it was. It was in my left breast and the lymph nodes in my left armpit, and had spread to my shoulder bone, my spine, and my right hip. 

In Spring 2019, before the diagnosis, I was ready to deploy to Kuwait to document US Air Force history there. For those curious, I was medically cleared to go downrange, and the scheduled deployment had nothing to do with finding out I had cancer. My husband, Joe, was set to have his own adventure, traveling the Pacific Northwest and doing photography work. None of those plans came to pass. I had to cancel my deployment, and Joe cancelled his work travel to stay with me. We spent the summer at our house in rural Idaho, travelling every week to the Boise area for treatment. 

Here is a photo of me, training for the deployment. I wore a WWII helmet in place of a modern one during an exercise. I'm a historian, after all. 

In many ways, I am very fortunate. I had a lot of leave time banked and was able to take sick days and vacation days when I couldn't go to work. My job, which I came to love before getting cancer, has been immensely graceful towards me, especially for the days when I have chemo brain and I don't feel like I contribute much. My husband has not left my side, even though I was mentally absent for much of the last six months due to side effects from chemo. 

My hair fell out, so Joe helped me pick out a great wig to wear. 

Chemotherapy costs as much as our monthly mortgage payment, only chemo was every WEEK. That's after insurance covered most of it, too. 

Cancer has proven to have an enormous financial and opportunity cost. Even if I didn't love going to work, I'd still have to go, because it's how we get our health insurance. This is expensive but it is literally the best insurance we can buy, and while it covers more than 90 percent of medical costs, it doesn't cover them all. I take everything as prescribed for the cancer itself, but all the treatments to deal with the side effects, not so much. I take half or a third of the doses for most, and skip other treatments altogether. Because of how much we pay for chemo, there's other things we haven't been able to do. Some of our roof tiles came off, we've needed a plumber for months, and one of the rooms in the house has creeping damp.  

It is extremely difficult for me to ask for help and it is humbling. Regrettably, I’m out of options.

We face a Catch 22 based on where we live and the fact that I have a job at all: we do not qualify for any forms of assistance. Researching grants, scholarships, and private organizations has yeilded nothing. Joe has altered his entire work schedule, too, because of me being sick. We have each other, but I fear we will be dealing with catastrophic debt levels if we can't get things paid down sooner than later. 

This is a photo I took of Joe, on his birthday, while editing files for clients from the hospital while I got chemo round #13. 

To keep up with medical bills associated with this disease, maintain our house, and stop skipping treatments, I’m following the recommendation of coworkers and friends by starting this gofundme campaign.

If any kind souls could find it in their heart to help me out of this bind, I would be eternally grateful. All funds will be used for necessities, like chemo costs, copays, insurance premiums, and if there's anything left over, non-medical things like our roof. 

Thank you for your consideration, and I hope to see you online soon. 

Sincerely,
Chrissie