Update: 8/2/2025: First off, Chris and I just want to say thank you. We’ve been completely blown away by the support we’ve received from our friends, family, and even total strangers. The donations, help with making our home more accessible, the texts and calls, and most of all the prayers—it's all been more than we could’ve ever imagined. We’re so incredibly grateful.

Here’s a quick update on everything that’s happened since my biopsy earlier this summer.

This summer has been full of highs and lows. We’ve done some amazing things as a family that we’ll never forget, but we’ve also faced some really hard moments. Right after our cruise in June, Chris and I drove straight to Texas for an appointment with an orthopedic oncologist at MD Anderson’s sarcoma center. That’s where we found out just how serious things were. What we had hoped would be a relatively straightforward surgery turned out not to be an option.

MD Anderson recommended a hemipelvectomy, which means removing the entire right side of my pelvis. They advised against doing an implant and said to leave the pelvic area empty. Over time, scar tissue would form and hopefully be strong enough to support my leg. As you can imagine, that appointment was overwhelming. We also found out that Emory had called my tumor grade 1, but MD Anderson’s pathologist found grade 2 cells. So we left Texas feeling both hopeful and broken. No matter what direction we went, we knew life would never look the same.

Next up was Memorial Sloan Kettering in New York. They got me in quickly, and my sister and I flew up there with barely 48 hours of turnaround time. We squeezed in a little fun, had dinner with family, and then got to the heart of the trip—the consult. Sloan’s approach is very different. They recommend a 3D-printed pelvic implant. Because I had a hip replacement in 2023, they’d also need to remove part of my femur and replace it with a rod, since anything from the previous surgery is considered contaminated.

Yes, there’s a risk of infection—some research says up to 40%—but this surgeon gave me peace. He was incredibly compassionate and hopeful. He told me this would probably be the hardest thing I’ll ever do, and he was genuinely sorry I had to face it. However, he also noted that they’re seeing improved outcomes, a better quality of life, and fewer infections with this new implant. He made me feel like this was a real option.

Sloan is also running a clinical trial using immunotherapy. Right now, this type of cancer doesn’t respond to chemo or radiation, so surgery is the only treatment. They’re testing my tumor for genetic mutations, and if it has one that qualifies, I may be able to do the trial before surgery. It’s a lot to process, and the decision between MD Anderson and Sloan brought on a ton of tough conversations, anxiety, and a lot of tears.

Finally, we met with Mayo Clinic this past Wednesday. The surgeon there was amazing and walked us through all the pros and cons of each option. We talked through different “what if” scenarios and what paths we’d have if certain things didn’t go as planned. I asked her point-blank—if you were in my shoes, what would you do? She said, considering my age and the potential quality of life, she’d roll the dice and go with the implant. She called it a Hail Mary, but one worth taking. Technology is improving fast, and if it doesn’t work, we still have options to fall back on. 

So that’s where we’re at—we’re rolling the dice and giving it to God. Honestly, that’s not always easy. I’ve had moments where I’ve asked, “Why me?” and I’ve been angry and anxious. But I keep coming back to this: God has never failed me before, and He’s not going to start now. This is His plan, and I’m just walking the path He’s laid out for me. 

Tentatively, we’re looking at the end of August for surgery, but there’s no firm date yet. My pelvic implant is currently being printed (which still sounds wild to say!), and the testing on my tumor is underway. Once we have those results and the implant is ready, we’ll be able to set an official date.