I Wasn't Ready to Give Up

The Diagnosis

The Day the Ground Shifted

January 12th, 2021: I remember sitting in the doctor's office, the fluorescent lights humming above me, when I heard the word. Cancer. Specifically, NSCLC. Non small cell lung cancer. Stage 4. Incurable. Chemotherapy and immunotherapy were my only options. Even so, the most I could hope for was a little more time, not a lot more time. There would be no "good days" ahead of me, just a few more days ahead of me. If I was lucky. I was told to get my affairs in order. To prepare. For dying.

I refused to allow the doctor to tell me how much time I had. Only God knows that, anyway, and I didn't know how hearing that information would possibly help me. Intuitively, though, I knew it was probably about 90 days. Three short months. When I got back to my car I said, aloud, "Okay, Jesus, how can I use this to glorify YOU? I think I have about 90 days, so let me know so I can glorify YOU."

I drove home. The days that followed were a blur of scans, tests, second opinions, and sleepless nights. I went through the motions — appointments, paperwork, phone calls — while inside I was quietly falling apart. I didn't tell many people at first. I wasn't ready to become someone's sad story.

The Search

Looking for Something to Hold Onto

After the initial shock settled, something in me refused to simply wait. I decided to visit the local health food store to see if there was anything — anything AT ALL — that could possibly help me. I was in a fog, scared and desperate. Really desperate.

I saw the shop owner and told her about my diagnosis. She told me a customer of hers had healed from lung cancer by using...DOG DEWORMER. Honestly, I felt every last ounce of hope leave my body when I heard that. It sounded goofy and stupid and very much like snake oil to me. The shop owner looked up the information about Joe Tippens on her laptop and wrote it down for me. She provided the phone number of the customer she mentioned, too.

I read Joe's blog (I was unbelievably skeptical about this fenbendazole stuff) and then tried to call the woman the shop owner had mentioned. I called a few times and left messages and sent texts. The woman never responded, which really made me quite depressed. I wanted — no, I NEEDED — to hear a real person tell me about the protocol, about a miraculous recovery, about how there was HOPE. I didn't get that. It kind of pissed me off, too, I'm not ashamed to say. I felt that if a person had such information, had used something that helped her heal, how DARE she not be willing to share and encourage others!

(The refusal of that woman to talk with me did, in fact, help fuel my desire to create this website. I have to smile about that now, knowing that this may well be the reason why she didn't respond. Maybe God used the silence to eventually give my own voice a megaphone within this space.)

I decided to try to find some of this "Magical Cancer Killing Dog Dewormer" called fenbendazole that I'd heard about. I had absolutely nothing to lose.

The Decision

Choosing to Try

I got my first fenbendazole product in liquid form, from a veterinarian. I'll never forget wondering if this stuff was going to kill me — it's for DOGS and says right on the package "Not for Human Consumption." At the very least I wondered if it would make my coat shiny or make me chase cars!

Again, I really had nothing at all to lose...so I took it, just placed it on my tongue and swallowed and...nothing happened. I didn't have a seizure or die and I didn't want to chase cars. Okay, I could do this.

That was on a cold winter day with freezing rain hitting the windshield on my car as I sat in the veterinarian's parking lot. It was a bleak day, on many levels. But it was definitely the first day of the rest of my life.

The Journey

Living Inside the Protocol

The first few weeks were unremarkable. No dramatic shifts, no sudden healing. Just the quiet discipline of doing the same thing every day and trusting the process. I took the dog dewormer, I took all the supplements I'd determined might be helpful. All the while, the cancer was spreading and growing at an alarming rate. I was in and out of the hospital, having emergency surgeries just to keep me alive. I continued having immunotherapy infusions once every 3 weeks. PRAYER. Lots of prayer. No matter what shape I was in, I kept with the protocol, I kept praying and I kept telling anyone who would listen: I'M GOING TO BEAT THIS.

There were hard days. Days when I wondered if any of it mattered. Days when the fear crept back in and I had to remind myself why I was doing this (my family!) — not because I was certain it would work, but because doing something felt better than doing nothing. Even when I was in so much pain that I was afraid to close my eyes for fear I would die...

Most people thought I was chasing false hope. I let them think what they needed to think. This was my journey, and I had to walk it my way. I kept praying, kept taking fenbendazole, kept taking supplements. There was nothing to lose by trying.

The Miracle

Less Than A Year to Remission

Fast forward to October 22nd, 2021. I'd had full body scans a week prior to the 22nd and had an oncology appointment and a Keytruda infusion treatment scheduled for that day. I wasn't feeling well that day, just a general kind of "blah" I guess, nothing specific. So, when I arrived for my onco appointment I wasn't particularly looking forward to hearing the scan results because I already didn't feel well. I wasn't expecting to hear anything other than bad or terrible news.

I sat in a chair, waiting for my oncologist to walk into the room. She entered and barely looked at me as she seated herself in front of a laptop, her back to me. She sat with her back to me, without speaking. I was really dreading this! Then, she spun around slowly in her chair and said..."It's GONE." The cancer had disappeared! All of it!

I sat there in disbelief at what I had just heard...then the tears rolled down my face as I thanked God, thanked my doctor, I was shaking! And suddenly I didn't feel bad anymore! I couldn't wait to call my parents, my husband, my beautiful daughter, my brother and sister-in-law, my friends, my cousins, everyone I could think of! October 22nd, 2021 was a BEAUTIFUL DAY.

Where I Am Now

Still Here. Still Going.

I'm not going to tell you the fenbendazole protocol saved my life. I don't know that. (I also don't know that Keytruda® was responsible for my miraculous recovery, either.) What I do know is that I'm still here, and that the path I walked — the combination of prayer, conventional care and this modified protocol — is the path I chose with full awareness and full intention.

Bodies are complicated. Cancer is complicated. But I am here, writing this, and that feels like something worth sharing.

I built this site because I spent months searching for someone who had done what I was considering — and finding only fragments. I wanted to be the complete account I never found. If you're reading this in the middle of your own diagnosis, I want you to know: you are not alone, and there are things worth researching, worth asking your doctor about, worth considering.

A Note

What I Want You to Take From This

I am not a doctor. I am not a researcher. I am a person who got sick and refused to stop looking for ways to fight back. Everything I share here is my personal experience — not a prescription, not a promise, not medical advice.

Please talk to your doctor. Please keep your medical team informed. Please don't abandon treatments that are working. And please, if this gives you even one question worth asking, one avenue worth exploring — then this site has done what I built it to do.