Kaelyn Kociemba
In her words:
For those of you reading this bio, thank you for your interest in my story as well as your support. I never suspected I’d be writing a biography at 33 years old. Usually, that’s reserved for the, well, old and wise. However, I hope this short bio will give you a small glimpse into my history, my heart, and my cancer journey thus far.
I grew up not too far from Eugene, Oregon in the little town of Cheshire. I graduated from Junction City High School and continued my education at Oregon State University, where I majored in General Science and most importantly, met my husband, Josh. We moved to Vancouver, Washington so Josh could find work in his field, but we still have many ties to the Willamette Valley.
Now, I’m a stay-at-home, homeschool mom of 2 kids, Ellie (5 years) and Noah (3 years). We enjoy spending time together, playing at parks, playing cards, riding bikes, and swimming. Ellie is an animal lover and a caregiver by nature, and Noah is a friend to all and an avid clock collector. They’re beyond lovable, they’re my heart.
After Noah was born, and two years prior to diagnosis, I started to feel lightheaded, weak, and tired, but couldn’t find a reason. A lung nodule was found while imaging for an unrelated health issue, but was incorrectly identified as a benign mass caused by an old virus. This led me to believe that the fatigue I was experiencing was from lack of sleep and the demands of being a mom to young children, so I didn’t think any more of it.
In February 2023, I started having pain in my back and sternum. I dealt with the pain for four months, thinking I had slipped a rib. It wasn’t until I was in prayer one evening that I randomly remembered the nodule imaged two years prior. At that moment, I knew in my heart I had cancer. I heard God tell me that what I was about to go through was going to be hard, but that He would be with me through it all.
I was scheduled to see a pulmonologist, but before I could get in, my pain became unbearable to the point that I couldn’t breathe well enough to talk. I expressed my concerns of cancer and requested a biopsy, and I was told that cancer was too unlikely to warrant testing, and instead, I was diagnosed with pleurisy.
Less than a month later, I was hospitalized again. This time, with a lung infection which left large cavitary lesions in my lungs, and I was near septic. During my stay, an MRI revealed a tumor in my skull. Once again, I requested biopsies, but I was told biopsies were unnecessary as I don’t have any of the risk-factors associated with cancer. I was reassured that the tumor in my skull and nodule in my lung were unrelated. Skeptical, but trying my best to trust the professionals and the process, I shifted my focus to beating the lung infection with a month of antibiotics.
After getting the lung infection under control, I requested biopsies once again and finally got a definitive answer. On September 5th, 2023, I was diagnosed with stage IV adenocarcinoma non-small cell lung cancer caused by a genetic mutation. PET scans revealed metastasis in the skull, vertebrae, hip bones, and pelvis. It’s difficult to recall the series of events leading up to the diagnosis and the feeling of having my concerns dismissed for so long. I know I’m not the usual suspect, but as it turns out, cancer isn’t particular. Please let this be a gentle nudge to those of you reading this who have a health concern. Listen to your gut. Seek care. Be persistent. Advocate for yourself and your loved ones.
The type of mutation driving my cancer, the RET mutation, accounts for 1% of all lung cancers. Because it is so rare, there hasn’t been much research, and there aren’t many effective treatment options. There are currently two drugs on the market that target the RET mutation, and the oncologists state that these medications can typically keep the cancer at bay for 18 months on average.
I took the first medication for three months before I had to discontinue treatment due to its toxicity, loss of vision, and neuropathy. Most worryingly, my blood cell counts sharply decreased due to the medication, making me even more susceptible to serious lung infections that my body can’t fight. At this point, the bacterial and fungal infections have become more dangerous than the cancer itself. With a weakened immune system, I am hospitalized with each infection, and it’s difficult to be away from my family for days or weeks at a time. The joy they bring me gives me the strength to get through each day, so the days I can’t be with them are beyond difficult.
After a month and a half break from cancer treatment, I am giving the second medication a try, praying I will tolerate this treatment better. While I am so thankful for these treatment options, I so badly want to stay here for my family much longer than the estimated 18 months. Knowing time is of the essence, I have been looking into some new cancer treatment options that have shown to be promising for many advanced stage cancer patients, but because they are not the standard of care, they are not covered by insurance. Therefore, I am so thankful that this financial blessing will open up some of those opportunities to me.
Although cancer is not a journey I would have ever chosen for myself, as it has caused countless tears and stress, I know God can use all things for good. I have seen him do it in so many ways already. My husband and I have drawn so much closer to the Lord in these difficult times. It’s a blessing to feel his presence so closely as we depend on Him to get us through each moment. It’s in times like these that God can show us how faithful he truly is. Just like He promised me during my prayer before diagnosis, He has been with me every step of the way. I have peace in knowing that God has a perfect plan for my life. I know He has my husband and our sweet kids in His hands too.
We are so grateful for all of the support we have received from our family, our friends, our church, and the many wonderful people who do not know us well, but have shown us so much kindness anyway. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.