Racing Time To Save Your Life
𝑹𝘼𝑪𝙄𝑵𝙂 𝙏𝑰𝙈𝑬 𝑻𝙊 𝙎𝑨𝙑𝑬 𝒀𝙊𝑼𝙍 𝙇𝑰𝙁𝑬
There's something I need to share—a hard truth about cancer treatments that many people don’t talk about. No matter what treatment path you choose, whether conventional or healthier options, there is no definitive cure for cancer. Every option—chemo, radiation, surgery, integrative therapies—is hope. Hope for more time. Hope for healing. Hope to see the people you love again tomorrow.
But what happens when the system denies you even that hope?
I know what it’s like to sit in silence after a long day, wondering how much more you can take. To feel the clock ticking, knowing you’re running out of time to raise the money for treatments that could save your life. If you’re reading this and you feel broken—if you’re crying right now, overwhelmed and terrified—I want you to know I understand.
When I was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, I was given months to live. The healthier treatments that ultimately saved my life weren’t covered by insurance. They were labeled “experimental” because they didn’t fit the system’s priorities—priorities driven by patents, profits, and pharmaceutical control. So, I had no choice but to fundraise.
Fundraising for survival isn’t just about the money—it’s about what it takes from your soul. Every donation that came in felt like a small whisper of hope, a vote of confidence in my survival. But every day without donations was crushing. It felt like the world was telling me my life didn’t matter enough.
And here’s a harsh reality: sometimes even family members—those with the means to help—choose not to.
Maybe they have their reasons, but when you’re racing the clock, those reasons feel like silence in a moment when you desperately need a voice saying, “I believe in you.” It’s a heartbreak that no one should have to endure, but I’ve heard these stories over and over for over a decade.
If you’ve never been through this—never faced the terror of fighting cancer while racing time to fundraise for the treatments that might save your life—please don’t try to argue against it. This is real. This is what happens to people like us. No hypothetical, no intellectual debate can replace the raw, lived reality of this experience.
The pressure to survive consumes you. You feel like your worth is tied to the generosity of others, and the haunting questions never leave: What if I don’t raise enough? What if I run out of time? What if I lose my chance at life simply because I couldn’t afford it?
The truth is, this system isn’t built to save us—it’s built to profit off of us. Healthier, less invasive options like the ones that saved my life in 2011 are denied coverage because they can’t be patented or sold for massive profit. They’re dismissed as “unproven,” while people like us are left to fight two battles: one against cancer and another against a system that refuses to prioritize human life over money.
To those raising money right now: you are not alone. Your worth is not measured by the dollars you raise, the people who give or don’t give, or the system that has failed you. Your life is priceless.
I know how heavy this fight feels. I know the fear of fighting for your life while also worrying about how to care for your children or keep food on the table. But I also know this: You are extraordinary. Not because of what you’re battling, but because of the courage and strength you show every day, even when you feel like you have nothing left.
We need to demand better—a system that values people over profits, healing over bureaucracy, and life over greed. Until that day comes, I will continue to speak out, to fight for change, and to remind you that you are not defined by this broken system.
To everyone racing against time to fundraise for treatments: You matter. Your life matters. Keep fighting. You are worth every effort and so much more.
This system must change. Healthier options have shown the same success as conventional treatments, and it is not fair to be denied access to these life-saving therapies by health insurance. Every person deserves the chance to choose hope without fighting for survival in every sense of the word.
A Prayer for You
Heavenly Father,
I lift up every person reading this who feels broken, overwhelmed, and afraid. You know their struggles and their pain, Lord, and I ask You to bring them comfort and peace in this moment. Give them the strength to keep fighting, the hope to hold on, and the reassurance that their life is precious and valued in Your eyes. Surround them with people who will lift them up, provide for their needs, and remind them they are not alone. Please open doors that seem impossible to open and make a way where there seems to be none. In Your name, I pray. Amen.
