Story
In April, 2024 Stacey Garwood’s life changed forever when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. A widow and devoted mother, Stacey faces this difficult journey while raising her two daughters, Ahlyssa (17) and Gwen (13), in Newman, Illinois. Ovarian cancer is often called the “silent disease” because its symptoms can be vague and easily overlooked. Early detection remains challenging, making awareness, education, and research critically important. Despite the challenges she faces, Stacey continues to show incredible strength, courage, and determination. Her journey is a reminder of the importance of supporting those affected by cancer and investing in research that can lead to earlier detection, better treatments, and ultimately a cure.
Ethan's story from Jamie Luth
Our story started in the Netherlands on December 24th, 2025. Yes - Christmas Eve. My husband received news of a “gift" we never, ever wanted.
We had been living just outside of The Hague, Netherlands for two and a half years on an expat work assignment for my husband, Ethan. Off and on during that time, he had been dealing with lower back pain. Nothing too serious, we thought - maybe a pulled muscle or even just the mattress.
But the pain worsened. Doctors began to suspect a kidney stone, and we spent months chasing that possibility with no answers. Eventually, the pain became so severe that Ethan began vomiting - something extremely unusual for him. We went back for more tests.
At this point, I thought of my friend, Kira Andersen and her late husband, Kyle - who had passed of pancreatic cancer at a young age. I asked the doctors to make sure Ethan’s pancreas was checked.
After multiple scans, a mass was found in his pancreas. A biopsy confirmed it. On Christmas Eve, we learned it was cancer.
What followed was a wave of emotions we could barely process. We knew, in that moment, our world was forever going to change. Still, we chose to keep this news from our three young daughters and focus on being present with them over Christmas. We put on brave faces and held tightly to the time we had together with our family and the dear friends we were with at the time.
Afterward, I reached out to Kira and asked for help connecting us with Kyle’s oncologist in St. Louis, Dr. Kian-Huat Lim - just in case we needed a second opinion.
Our initial appointment with the Dutch surgery team and oncologist brought cautious hope. The tumor appeared contained within the pancreas. The plan was eight rounds of chemotherapy, using FOLFIRINOX, followed by surgery. It wouldn’t be simple - the tumor had wrapped around a vessel leading to the spleen and was pressing against the aorta - but the team in the Netherlands believed it was operable.
An MRI was scheduled for January 9th. His first round of chemo was set for January 13th.
On January 12th, we got a call asking us to come in immediately to review the MRI. On the drive up there, I remember making the comment “either it is good news and they want to tell us in person... or it is not, and they are going to tell us surgery isn’t an option. If that’s the case, we go home to the States.”
It wasn’t good news.
The cancer had spread to his liver. Surgery was no longer an option. We were told they would administer up to 12 rounds of chemotherapy and “hope for the best.” We were even given resources to help explain to our daughters that their daddy might not survive.
We left that appointment shocked, angry - and determined.
Ethan contacted Dr. Lim’s office immediately. We knew we needed to return to the United States. We made the decision on January 16th to start the process of making an international move - and our incredible community rallied around us to make it happen. We are forever grateful for every single one of them who helped us with that process.
If you’ve ever made an international move, you know how overwhelming they can be. If you’ve ever done it in under a month, with three young children and a husband facing a terminal disease - it feels nearly impossible. But because of the people who showed up for us on both sides of the pond, we made it through.
During that time, Ethan completed two rounds of chemotherapy in the Netherlands before we returned to St. Louis on February 9th, 2026.
We met with the surgical team at Siteman Cancer Center on February 11th and with Dr. Lim on February 12th. The plan was to continue chemotherapy - this time at a higher intensity, since Ethan had handled the first rounds so well.
Then, something unexpected happened.
Shortly after his third treatment, Dr. Lim called to tell us about an opening in a clinical trial in St. Louis - and Ethan qualified. He immediately stopped chemo in preparation.
That Friday, we felt hope.
By Monday, we were told he didn’t get the spot. His application had come in just one minute after another patient’s.
We were devastated.
But, by the grace of God - and because Dr. Lim fought for him - Ethan was ultimately given a place in the trial he is on today.
This trial is currently one of two trials underway at Siteman Cancer Center, and both are showing incredibly promising results.
These treatments are working!
They are giving hope - not just to Ethan, but to so many others. And that’s why we are so committed to helping fund this research.
Thank you for your support, generosity, and commitment to helping us make an impact in the fight against cancer.
