I was born in Germany, and when I was 6 months old, my mother flew me to Washington, D.C.  where I was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. 

Growing up, I went to school just like any other student, but of course I had my ups and downs. By age 6, I got my first PICC line, and by the time I was 9, I was diagnosed with CF-related diabetes. Two years later, I got viral encephalitis and was in a medical coma for three days. This sucked because it affected my memory, and I had to start elementary school all over again.  To this day, I live with seizures as a side effect of this infection.

By the time I got to seventh grade, I was using supplemental oxygen at night and was put on the transplant list. A year later I was using oxygen 24/7. It was hard going to school, carrying my books around and rolling my oxygen tanks with me. I thought I had friends to help with stuff like that, but apparently I did not. I hated being the outsider or the one that everyone stared at. But I liked school because I was actually able to get out of the house. Most of the time I was hooked up to machines at home.  

During my freshman year of high school, I got so sick with bronchitis. I desperately needed a transplant. My lung function was at 28%. I was so sick that two transplant hospitals rejected me. Finally, Texas Children’s Hospital in Houston — the number one transplant center for pediatrics — accepted me for transplant.   

I received my double-lung transplant on November 6, 2009. I got out of the hospital six days later with my PFTs at 112%! But, two weeks later, I caught RSV, and my PFTs dropped to 100%. I was in the Texas Children’s Hospital for two weeks and then I had to stay nearby for 90 days. I live in Oklahoma, so by that time, I was ready to go home. 

I finally went home in February. At this point, my lung function went down to 88% because I couldn't do much while recovering from RSV, which stressed me out. However, at my 10-year checkup, my PFTs went up to 100% again.

By the time I was 20, I met my (now) husband and finally got to move out of my parents’ house.  A few years later, my sodium and potassium levels got messed up. We had to rush to the hospital in Oklahoma City, and the whole way there I was throwing up. I was admitted for 11 days. Although I recovered, the same thing happened again just a few years later. Then, last year, I noticed I started getting heavier and heavier periods. I visited my gynecologist, and they did an ultrasound, but they thought it was just a fibroid. I went to two other doctors, and they said the same thing. But my period kept getting heavier.  

In May 2025, I had to rush to the ER and get two pints of blood. Two months later, I had to go again and get four pints. I kept trying to make an appointment with my gynecologist, but she kept pushing the date back because she thought I just had a fibroid. When I finally saw her, she sent me straight to an oncologist. I had a hysterectomy in August 2025, and the biopsy showed I had Stage 4 endometrial cancer.

I started chemotherapy and two weeks in, my stomach kept hurting. I can usually deal with pain, but this time I couldn't. I went to the hospital to get lab work done, but I was in so much pain, I was about to cry. My husband called my doctor, and he said to go to the ER instead. He said if I was hurting that bad it would be serious.

I was admitted to the hospital, where we found out I that the cancer was taking over my insides. It started in my left leg then spread to my right lung. My stomach grew to 36 inches in just two weeks.

I thought about giving up because I've gone through so much. I'm tired of it, too. But I told my husband to let me fight this. Cancer has taken plenty of my family, and I wasn't going to let it take me too.

Over the last four months, I've done six and half hours of chemo, and now I only have a small spot of cancer in my leg. The only thing I have to do now is immunotherapy every six weeks.

Throughout all of this, my husband’s work colleagues and friends have helped us out tremendously. Our best friends actually surprised me by showing up at my hysterectomy surgery and staying several nights with us at the hospital. Our best friends continue to have hope in me. I've fought through lots of problems in my life, as you can tell, and I’m not going to let cancer take me too. 

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