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PLEASE SHARE UPDATE BELOW posted SEPT 22 . . . FOR YOUR CALENDAR - EAST COAST/NY Brooklyn Date: OCT. 9, BUFFALO'ED, Hi-Arts, 10 Lafayette, Brooklyn directed by Claro de los Reyes Cast includes Members of Actors Equity Association. Following reading: talkback facilitated by director; historian Michael Salgarolo, History PhD, Bard College; Cynthia Marasigan, Assoc Prof Binghamton University, Asian American/U.S. Empire Studies   FOR YOUR CALENDAR--SAN FRANCISCO Dates: OCT. 10 3pm Samson Manalo (former Artistic Director) organizes Bindlestiff reading extracts of Jeannie's plays, 5-min. vid tbd, 6th St @ Howard, SF https://www.bindlestiffstudio.org/jeannie-barroga-staged-reading REGISTER for Free Online Access (Note: 3pm PST viewing): Reservation -- https://forms.gle/NjrAwJPGUU9J1JPs5 DEC 5 Golda Sargento assembles "I Dream of Jeannie" musical benefit; 5 musicians on board, Bindlestiff, 6th St @ Howard, SF  7pm ---- Over the last 20 days, I spent many hours organizing all of 2026 medical visits, messages, labwork, procedures. My diagnosis has taken over most of my time, much like a thesis, like that of a bookkeeper, analyst, researcher, and then there’s time to be: a patient. The nice moments: sitting outside, listening to coquis, birds, the rushing river, and well, yard work. Things grow quickly here. I’m reminded of Time passing Fridays to Fridays with fleeting memories of days in between. So three six-inch binders later since last week are filled documenting my medical journey since February. The review at times brought me low; the unexpected cards and calls uplift me. Exhaustion ushers me into being a patient who rests. Folks may have heard of our back-to-back storms, days of blackouts—ah, Hawai’i. But they bring amazing rainbows and snuggling cats—and deflect news like a defunct car battery, replaced printer, revised dosage restarting another health plan, and notably, Tony’s sarcoma. Now there’s two sets of appointments and already conflicting doctor dates. This weekend’s upcoming storm may affect his procedure scheduled in Kona. So we pray. I share this so we all can feel, even me, what are we without our simple, unheralded moments that we can revel in, even before there may be an earlier end than planned. Someone wrote me that my wish for Bay Area rose sprays prompted the adage: ‘take time to smell the roses.” Ditto that, friends, ditto that.

Our thanks again to supporters and viewers, all who are wonderful in giving generously. The last few days have been both relieving and anticipatory. I could pay bills that had been delayed for months, including a CPAP machine. I have sleep apnea, and the doctor was adamant that I get the machine for my heart, for upcoming procedures involving anesthesia, and for sleep and rest for those dates ahead. For blue times, I had impromptu visits that uplifted me, I snorkel, and I welcome the neighbor's cat, Bagheera. Yes, Mowgli's protector--he urged Mowgli to identify his tribe. After years of my initial journey to do the same, I love fully who my tribe is, all the souls who have come to my aid at the most surprising times, including the many Anonymous donors who just read who calls for help and give it. Everyone have a joyous Holiday, rest, reflection, and fun. With love, Jeannie and Tony

https://alohastatedaily.com/2026/09/02/playwright-seeks-help-with-cancer-battle/ [click on informative links underlined within the article]

Update. 8-30-26 I just wanted to thank again all the very generous and thoughtful donors who have contributed over the week. I had heard about other patients who gasp aloud, awed by the responses to their fundraisers. Our tears spill quickly seeing the figures. I’m sharing with family, friends, and strangers these following intimate thoughts, because: you make our days, and keep our moments, invigorating. And we thank you deeply: The GFM fundraiser was launched Sunday 8-23-26. The month-long-awaited zoom with the Mayo Clinic oncology was Thursday. The doctor, Tony, and I had discussed what alternative drug would now replace the 400mg daily dosage of imatinib aka Gleevec. Last June I had a meeting for two hours discussing the 10 pages of side effects. By the 8th page, all of them sounded so horrific that I exclaimed, “You could’ve LED with this page!” I had not been sold on the drug nor any of the substitutions also ending in –inib. On Thursday I still was not thoroughly sold on the lowered dosage of the same drug. However, these are the areas that keep us hesitant patients in a quandary: insurance had already approved the drug, and another would mean the local pharmacy would need another authorization and revised prescription of 100mg. And then there’s the wait. I already had been without any substitute drug for 36 days after having tried the same drug at the higher dosage for 39 days. Over that time, six side effects had appeared within a week, then a few days, to accumulate In my body every day for the remaining time. The worst was—beginning with weepy, sticky eyes—full closure of my left eye with my swollen left side of my face. On July 24 I had sent doctors consecutive jpgs of my face with my alarming texts about what to do. Finally, both oncologists, local and at the Mayo, sent me emails minutes apart that I should probably “go to E.R.” Within the 7 hours I was there, I had an emergency MRI of my head area: I was diagnosed with preorbital edema and was told to stop the drug. I’m still waiting for the signed prescription and lowered drug shipment. That same Thursday afternoon, Tony returned from his overdue dermatology visit. Some scabs and flaking skin were on his temple forehead area for years. The largest half-inch circular depression was diagnosed as cancer, a squamous sarcoma. It was biopsied; a future visit may, or may not, include deeper biopsies and/or a procedure called MOHS, reputed to catch all possible “roots” spreading not only into but also around the circle and not leave scars. So we are both in a waiting period, one of so many since February. These constant upheavals of whatever phase we had moved into—at least three, each changing the treatment plan and causing worry and anxiety, at times affecting sleep, appetite, moods, crying jags. I can admit this after so many weeks and months of that kind of routine. Comparatively, Tony’s cancer is smaller, considered common, and more easily ending in remission. Mine is so completely opposite, termed among the largest sizes, malignant, rare, and incurable. Even writing that description now seems calm, candid, and not anything that feels like. . .me. But I face facts; it is, and I am, those adjectives. We babysat recently for E--, GoFundMe promoters S-- and D--’s child; her sister, C-- was in school. S-- had a zoom meeting, at the house. Tony and I would keep E-- occupied. That went well, though at times, her clear, high voice, nearing a baby-panic, would question: “Mommy?” She would then hold my forefinger and lead me to the front door yet would only lean out, call softly, search, but not exit the house. I said I was hungry and asked for cereal. She quickly forgot her fear and led me to the kitchen and pointed to a cereal box. I filled a bowl with berries. This happened about four times, each ending with distracting her or starting a repetitive game or having her entranced by “Hilda”, an animated TV character, resourceful with solutions. I wish I could be so distracted to forget my own fears. I wish I could linger on the very lucky moments when a donation increases the fundraiser. I wish I stopped thinking that I may be disappointing family and friends by having no avenue of my own to decrease the tumor inside me, so I could have an earlier, drug-less, less expensive journey to the inevitable invasive surgery. These are some of my daily thoughts. I want to feel more positive; I want to wake to my usual two cups of tea and cup of cereal and sit outside and watch geckos and listen to birds—a simpler life, less strewn with calculations of another revision in the budget, less hesitation deciding on a local hospital instead of air travel to get the same procedure elsewhere, because of The Budget. I wish we both would not be focused on our respective cancers. Somehow this doesn’t seem fair; but we are not the only ones. Each day we hear of another friend, or friend of a friend, afflicted with cancer; I still feel no specialty having the rarest type of all the ones we continue to hear about. We all identify. I just want to thank you all again. I will aim more to live with joy and appreciation. You have supported us in so many different ways: 2 SF October benefits, one with music, the other, readings of my plays; October 9, a Brooklyn, NY reading; a local interview for Wednesday’s online news; and tbd, possible SF South Bay and a Hilo event. Watch for details here. I believe helping us, helps you, too, recognizing your own simple moments of gratitude for good neighbors, cohorts, comfort, successes, and especially, for health. Bless you all.

Aloha, everyone, Our friend ,Jeannie Barroga, and her husband Tony recently retired to Hawaii. Their lives have since turned upside down. Jeannie has been diagnosed with a rare and High Risk malignant tumor. She has been travelling to the Mayo Clinic to receive the expertise and care she needs for this uncommon cancer. As many of you know, Jeannie is a well-known and respected playwright and author. She has devoted her life to the arts and bringing powerful Filipino American stories to light. Her husband ,Tony, has similarly devoted his life to a noble cause, having worked for decades at The Marine Mammal Center in California, which is a rehabilitation hospital for marine mammals. Getting the care Jeannie needs will come at significant personal cost. We have started this GoFundMe in the hopes of raising funds to support them with the extensive costs that are compounding the immense pressure and difficulty of this diagnosis. Jeannie is kind, spirited, a champion of the arts and has touched the lives of many. Any donations are deeply appreciated and will help keep Jeannie with us for as long as possible. Hear from Jeannie herself attached. With aloha, Jeannie, Tony, and GoFundMe support crew Sophie and Dave

PLEASE READ 9/22 UPDATE BELOW - see added pix - scroll here ... Retiree Tony 2001-24- happy work keeping Jeannie and cats happy. . . post-storm skies: HAVENS: use sheets as kids -- use skeeter netting as OGs So-like MOWGLI's Bragheera displaying cards, support from Donors - brighten our days infamous TMMCers n'buds sep2024 - more buds last revelry wedding evening 01-01-01 Headlands farewell with mentee, stalwart bud and friend, Al "Samson" Manalo long-time theater buds passed the sceptre to Conrad Please see UPDATE 9/2/26 for link to Aloha State Daily article -click on informative internal links within the article—bless us all at Hilo's Rainbow Falls R.I.P. steady Chanza Big Island buds - we all align... Sis2 nOga Sis4 last days in the Bay Area Sept 2025 - had arrived May 1972 Kona's ocean heiau, always calling... PLEASE SEE UPDATE 8-30-26! A few dates for your calenders from West Coast to East! My name is Jeannie. My husband, Tony, and I celebrated his retirement and both our birthdays in the Fall of 2025 by moving to Hawai’i. We had tossed, donated, or shared whatever we owned and shipped 30-some boxes and our cars. We lucked out renting a furnished house through an unexpected windfall. We live frugally and happily these past eleven months watching Nature and hearing the river from our lanai all hours. Many of our friends say we deserve our kind of retirement. We could not have known that not even four months here, we’d be in back-to-back medical procedures to test why my numbers were off. In April 2026, I had moved from a benign mass to an incurable, rare, malignant Stage IV stomach cancer called G.I.S.T., gastrointestinal stromal tumor, eleven centimeters or four inches. Update below: for this disease, mine is medically termed “High Risk.” Currently, three medical teams prescribe a very expensive four-figure, thirty-some pills a month to treat G.I.S.T. We backed off to recover. But we’ve regrouped. SHORT BIOs: I’ve been a produced playwright for over 45 years and have written over eighty plays. My full collection as of December 2025 is housed at Stanford University Green Library Special Collections. In these Jeannie Barroga Papers, I am the only Filipino American female playwright in that category among collections like that of novelist, John Steinbeck. Tony and I celebrated our 25th Anniversary. He retired in 2024 as the Facilities Manager at the Marine Mammal Center. THE ASK: ​We are seeking help. Most medical cases here are split between the Big Island and Oahu. Above our usual monthly costs and rent, besides co-pays, we have airfare, housing, and a four-figure targeted drug. Our savings, already part of a trust, dwindles daily. Cost-of-living takes nearly 60% of our income; medical bills drain about 20% the rest coming from annuities, dividends, and occasional stipends from my writing. ​Early July I was admitted as a Mayo Clinic patient. That trip increased the medical percentage of our till-then fixed income by another ten %;y still, we live at a lower take-home level from social security. For us, we’re thankful retiring in Hawai’i for true friends and for making this goal as “OGs” to be inspired by other path-makers who have been sharing joy at life’s longevity. We are aiming for $150,000 to address our medical financial worries and maintain our already closely budgeted daily costs. This Journey already has helped Tony and me grow closer, to practice patience, and to accept changes as partners and caregivers, he for me, as well as me for him. ROCK-STREWN PATH: After in-depth research, we now have connected with the Mayo Clinic, known to be the pinnacle in the field of rare cancers. As a child, I marveled at places that took in kids with cancer; now I’m a participant learning first-hand how adults experience this “journey”. Numbers: 42% of stomach cancers per year are women; 69% of cancer patients are of Asian descent; 60% are in my age group; and one per cent of the stomach cancers, G.I.S.T. , has a maximum life expectancy of about three years. I would have flown alone from Hawai’i. But with my sister on the mainland, we traveled to the Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minnesota. This was during a unique period of rising gas and flight costs. My sister’s flight helped keep travel costs lower than the overnight-long flight for two—Tony and me--from Hawai’i, the future traveler with me to Mayo. They also gave us a schedule of three more visits within a year, meaning more travel for future procedures. I keep revising our budget to align with each new change in plans. LONG, UPHILL ROAD: Please help us. People who read this narrative yet don’t know me, well, this, too, is a miracle: to approach family and friends OF family and friends and hope they – you—respond. Both my very loving and attentive husband, Tony, are proud. Yet now with humility, we hold out our hands. He has worked 24 years in a non-profit animal care facility and loves all animals. We married late, neither with kids. We retired on social security. Our banks are depleting quickly with medical costs, travel, durable equipment, and our minutely budgeted rent and house costs with budgeted daily needs plus--when the most critical surgery is scheduled,--this may mean weeks living separately in the Midwest while I’m in follow-up surgeries or in recoveries from them. Reading the clinical notes, I am amazed at how I’m described: compromised. Cancer affects thyroid, lymph nodes, and liver but diagnosed by Mayo as clear; their targeted focus is on the malignant tumor only. Mayo has re-termed me as “High Risk”. The cancer’s lesion has some dead cells. This unexpected rare, malignant, incurable stomach tumor must be removed or shrunken with an expensive long-time drug. Beyond the six-to nine months for the malignancy to decrease half its size, the most invasive excision is gastrojejunostomy, about three to six months after that. This period does not count the continual procedures to monitor the tumor’s progress with biopsies, 3-month intervals with ultrasounds, various cat- or pet scans, EKGs, lab work plus meds. ​Update: I tested the pill for 39 days which was showing a half-dozen side effects. My eyes swelled and covered my pupils. I was diagnosed in Emergency with periorbital edema and was advised to stop that pill. I now wait for a replacement much the same price as the first. I manage to keep a positive front. Tracking daily challenges takes a lot of energy. CLEAR SIGHTS AHEAD: We demonstrate gratitude, empathy and kindness daily. Tested during our time at Mayo, strangers we touched on the intangible miracles: generosity of Spirit. There’s little else to say other than we live lives that we’re proud to say with kindness, love, wonderful family and friends, and in our dream location. Even five more years would be welcome, another miracle – in fact. We thank you, who read this, for your generosity in support and time reading this narrative. Further information: www.jeanniebarroga.com