Shelli Hill-McQuien

I still find it strange to say I have cancer. My brain hasn't accepted this to be real yet, and trying to speak the words just comes out in a blurted fashion. I wish I could give you the cliff notes of my situation, but if I condense it, you won't understand the gravity of things as much. My name is Shelli, I'm 46, and I was recently diagnosed with Stage 4 uterine/endometrial cancer. If you're a statistics person, they don't look good. There is a 30% survival rate at 5 years. That means 70% of women will not survive this disease at this stage. Those are absolutely terrifying odds, and I almost puked when my doctor revealed them to me. Let's rewind... October 2025, I started having extremely heavy periods. I actually bled 40 days straight, passing huge clots and feeling extremely fatigued. I just thought it was due to a change in birth control, so I didn't address it. That is, until I wound up losing so much blood I had 2 ER visits and a blood transfusion because my hemoglobin dropped so low. I was told I needed to see an OB, and was able to get an appointment fairly quick. It was decided that a biopsy was necessary. The biopsy was done on 12/11/25, and I got the phone call on 12/16/25 that the results tested positive for cancer. After a CT scan, it appeared the cancer was contained within my uterus, so a full hysterectomy was needed. I told my doctor, "You can take it all, it never did anything for me!" I had my hysterectomy on 1/21/26, and the doctor discovered more areas of cancer outside the uterus. She removed what she was able to see but told me there would be microscopic cells remaining that would need treatment. 2/9/26, I had my first post-op appointment and went into it feeling really good. No more fatigue, I had so much energy, and I just felt fantastic. Looking at the chart in the exam room, I deduced that I was most likely Stage 2. So you can imagine my shock when she told me it was Stage 4. I wanted to scream, cry, and puke all at the same time. I was informed I would need to start chemo. 2/16/26, I had surgery to get my port placed in my chest so it will make receiving chemo easier. I will start chemotherapy and immunotherapy beginning 3/2/26, then every 3 weeks for 6 months that last about 5 or 6 hours. Then I will start immunotherapy every 6 weeks for the next 3 years. I’m doing my best to stay positive and strong, but some days are tougher than others. I’m so grateful for the love and encouragement I’ve already received from friends and family—it truly keeps me going. The reality is, the costs of chemotherapy, immunotherapy, and traveling for treatment are more than I can manage. Every bit of support helps me focus on healing and spending precious time with loved ones, instead of worrying about bills piling up. Your kindness—whether it’s a donation, a prayer, or simply sharing my story—means more than words can say. I intend on being a 30%er, please help me on my way to becoming a survival story.