Hi, my name is Tammi. I’m 55 years old and a single mother to my 28-year-old fraternal twins. All three of us carry the BRCA1 gene mutation — something that has shaped our lives in ways we never could have imagined.
I am now fighting my fifth cancer — anal carcinoma, which doctors believe is related to HPV. Before this diagnosis, I endured breast cancer twice, as well as uterine and bladder cancer. Each time I thought I had climbed the mountain, another one appeared in front of me. It has been a long, heartbreaking road — physically, emotionally, and financially — and one I never imagined I would have to travel over and over again.
Every bone in my body aches. Some days the pain feels endless. Each morning I wake up and ask myself how I will get through the hours ahead. I am on fentanyl and hydromorphone, yet the pain never truly disappears. The exhaustion runs so deep that if I didn’t push myself, I could sleep the day away. But I keep moving because I have to.
Being seriously ill in the United States can feel like something only the wealthy can survive. The medical bills never stop. The support systems are limited. We cannot qualify for loans, and the financial strain has become another heavy weight we carry. We are emotionally drained, financially stretched, and trying to hold onto hope in the middle of it all.
Still, I keep fighting — for my children, for the life we have shared, and for whatever time and strength I have left. Giving up has never been an option. But the truth is, this battle has taken so much from us.
And yet, somehow, we are still here.
