Stage IV Metastatic Colorectal Cancer. The words that shattered me almost one year ago. I experienced no real symptoms other than fatigue (which seems pretty normal for anyone with toddlers) and mostly attributed that to having had Covid for the first time just a few months prior. Things began to change about two weeks before my diagnosis. My appetite decreased substantially, I began noticing some blood in my stool (TMI, but I’ve had to become pretty comfortable talking about this), and around my 35th birthday the general fatigue I’d been feeling turned to not being able to stand for more than a few minutes at a time, without feeling out of breath. I went to my PCP who ordered labs, and from there things unfolded rapidly. On December 5, 2024 I went to the ER where an ultrasound revealed numerous masses in my liver consistent with metastatic disease. A CT scan, colonoscopy, and liver biopsy all confirmed my greatest fear – I had a cancerous mass in my colon and the disease had spread to and was covering about 75% of my liver. The five days I spent in the hospital, separated from my two girls, learning about my diagnosis, and waiting on additional test results was easily the darkest period in my life.

My absolute rock of a husband was by my side through it all and remained steadfast despite the overwhelming feeling that our world was crumbling around us. He used his knowledge and experience as a physician to reassure me and restore hope after I made the mistake of looking up statistics associated with my diagnosis. When uttering the words “I have cancer” aloud seemed insurmountable, he made all of the phone calls to inform our family and close friends of the devastating news we had learned. I’ve fallen in love with this man three separate times – when we first started dating, after the birth of our first child, and when he held our family together during this time. I will forever be amazed at the strength he showed in the days and weeks to come.

About a week later I would meet my oncologist, Dr. Raymond Wadlow, who wanted to begin treatment immediately because, as I later learned, he was worried that I was days/weeks away from liver failure. The weekend before Christmas I was admitted to Fairfax Hospital for two days to start my first round of chemotherapy, and the day after Christmas I had a procedure to place my mediport which would allow me to receive my 48+ hour treatments at an infusion center and home going forward.

That month of December was heartbreaking and terrifying and while I’m sure I intensely experienced every emotion possible that month, the one thing I never felt was alone. The day I was diagnosed my sister Lauren drove out to stay with my girls and didn’t leave for the next three weeks. She took off work so she could be fully present to help in whatever way she was able. She sheltered me from everything I couldn’t handle and anticipated anything I could possibly need. I later told her that it felt like she was holding an umbrella over me during these weeks, protecting me from the noise of the outside world and allowing me to sit in whatever emotion I needed. Words will never be able to express how much gratitude I have for her being there during that time or that despite all the ways she went above and beyond, simply being there by my side in the quiet moments when fear crept in, is what meant the most of all.

Fast forward through second, third, fourth, and fifth opinions to finally meeting Dr. Hernandez and team at the University of Rochester, who agreed that my best chance at long term survival was to receive a liver transplant from a living donor. I already felt that there was no way I’d ever be able to come close to repaying my sister for everything she had already done for me, and then she offered to donate part of her liver. She is deep into the donor evaluation process, and with one last follow up on December 3rd, we are all hopeful that she will be approved as my donor for a potential transplant early in 2026.

However, in this process and in life nothing is guaranteed, and at the advice of my transplant team we are starting a campaign for potential back up donors. There are really no words for the size of this ask, but there is also no room for pride or fear in the fight for my life, and to be here for myself, for my daughters, and my family. And because of that, I am willing to share this vulnerable part of my story on the chance that someone reading this may feel called and willing to consider such a selfless act. (See below for more info, FAQ’s, and next steps on becoming a donor)

In the face of the hardest year of my life I can’t help but to feel immense gratitude. For the joy of simple things once taken for granted. For the volunteers in Colontown who helped me quickly navigate next steps and connect me with some of the most experienced programs in the country. For the amazing medical teams that have guided me, and for the positive way my body has responded to treatment thus far. For having the resources to be able to seek out any and all treatment options, knowing many others do not have that opportunity. For the spiritual support I received through our church that I didn’t realize I was desperately missing. For my parents, who are always ready to drop everything at a moment’s notice to help with whatever I needed. And to our family, extended family, and friends who have shown up in too many ways to count, I will never be able to thank you all enough or truly express how much your support has meant to us.

I’m normally a very private person, and it’s taken me a long time to feel ready to share all of this, but it was incredibly important to me that I do. Colorectal cancer is rising at alarming rates in young adults, often to those with no family history and with later stage diagnoses. I share my story and my (very limited) symptoms to promote awareness of how quietly this disease can grow and with hope that hearing my story may empower someone else to get screened sooner –  via a colonoscopy or an at-home test like Cologuard. If you are willing, I hope you’ll share this post so others may benefit from awareness of how this disease continues to impact younger people every day, and if you feel called to complete the living donor questionnaire – thank you is a pale sentiment for the gratitude my family and I feel. 

Basic Criteria for Donor:

• Blood Type A or O (positive or negative)
• Between the ages of 18 – 60
• BMI 30 or less
• No significant medical or psychiatric problems
• Test negative for chronic Hepatitis B and C
• No diabetes, heart disease, or kidney disease

The first step for anyone considering donation is to complete a basic health questionnaire which can be found here:  https://redcap.urmc.rochester.edu/redcap/surveys/?s=J8LRXX3938HDJYMR 

On this site we’ve also created a space for centralized information, including What to Know About Living Liver Donation and Next Steps for Potential Donors. Anyone with questions or interest can reach out to Lauren directly to learn more about the process she’s been through and what she’s learned along the way:

• lnhunt.23@gmail.com
• 703-819-2374

Or, you can reach out directly to the transplant team at University of Rochester Medical Center at (585) 275-5875. 

Thank you!