Donate to A Mother’s Cancer Journey, organized by Corrie Daniel

Product Description

Support for Keeba – A Fighter, A Mother, A Friend David Russek and I have been lifelong friends of Keeba, and we’re reaching out to you not only for monetary support, but also for your prayers, positive energy, and healing thoughts. Keeba is currently fighting her second battle with breast cancer. As we share her journey here weekly, you’ll come to understand the depth of her struggle—but also the strength of her faith. Keeba is a true fighter, especially for her three boys, whom she raises and cares for. Right now, Keeba is facing significant financial hardship. With mounting bills and the inability to work as she used to, she may have to make some heartbreaking decisions. We ask you to stand with her. Whether through a donation, a kind message, or a prayer, every bit of support helps lift her spirits and light the path ahead. Thank you for being part of KB’s Kommunity. ❤️ With Love, Corrie & David Keeba’s Journey Re-Diagnosed: A New Chapter in My Breast Cancer Journey It’s hard to find the right words, Being re-diagnosed with breast cancer has cracked open a space in my life I never wanted to revisit-but here I am. Again. The last few months have been a whirlwind of doctor’s appointments, lab work, scans, treatment plans, and hard conversations. There hasn’t been a moment to catch my breath, and yet somehow, I’m still breathing. Still showing up. Still fighting. One of the hardest parts was telling the boys. There’s no handbook for how to deliver news like that. Watching the worry infiltrate their faces-seeing their hearts try to make sense of something so heavy-broke mine all over again. As a parent, your instinct is to protect them, to shield them from pain. But cancer doesn’t respect those instincts. It barges in, uninvited, and takes up space in your family’s life. I could see the fear behind their questions, their brave smiles, their quiet moments. I began treatment recently-infusions every two weeks for the next two months, then weekly treatments for an additional two. That schedule alone feels like a full-time job, but the side effects have taken things to another level. The first treatment knocked me off my feet. I wasn’t prepared for the intense nausea, the kind that turns food into your enemy. I wasn’t prepared for how lethargic I’d feel-like the smallest tasks became mountains. And the lower back pain… excruciating doesn’t even begin to describe it. It radiated through me in a way that made sleep impossible and movement unbearable. There have also been discussions about a mastectomy. It’s surreal to even say that out loud. Surgery. Scars. Change. Survival. It’s a lot to hold at once. But in the midst of all that, I did receive some good news: my CT scans and bone scans showed no sign of metastasis. Thank God. This journey will be hard, no doubt-but I’m incredibly grateful it hasn’t spread. That news gave me a renewed sense of hope and focus. With that hope, I’ve started to look at what I can do to support my body alongside treatment. I’ve been learning more about nutrition and how cancer doesn’t thrive in an alkaline environment. I’m not going rogue or abandoning medical care, but I am working on eating better. Little by little, making changes that feel supportive-not restrictive. When I’m able, I also want to start walking again. Swimming too, like I used to. Those were spaces where I felt strong, grounded, and peaceful. If you ever feel like joining me for a walk or a swim-please do. Healing in community sounds a lot better than doing it alone. Therapy has become my friend through all of this. Having a safe space to cry, process, and say the things I can’t always say out loud has made such a difference. I’m so grateful for that outlet. And prayer… prayer has been, and will continue to be, my crutch. When I run out of strength, when I feel like I can’t carry another ounce of this weight-prayer meets me there. It reminds me that I’m never alone, even in my quietest moments. That said, feeling alone is still one of the biggest challenges. Cancer can be so isolating. It creeps into your head and makes you question everything-your strength, your future, your identity. But then I remember all the love that’s surrounded me. The calls, the texts, the visits, the prayers, the meals, the thoughtful gestures that have lifted me up. You’ve held me through the worst, and for that, I’m deeply grateful. This journey isn’t over-far from it. But I’m learning to take it one day at a time, to rest when I need to, and to keep reaching for hope, healing, and community. If you’re reading this, thank you. You’re a part of the love that’s holding me together. With love and resilience, Keeba

Donate to A Mother's Cancer Journey, organized by Corrie Daniel

Donate to A Mother's Cancer Journey, organized by Corrie Daniel

Price Valid Until: 1970-01-01