3x Survivor hopes for dream wedding

<iframe media_type="0" media_id="zioc7_vsBEU" class="youtube-replace" title="YouTube video player" style="margin-bottom:20px;width:560px;height:315px;" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/zioc7_vsBEU/?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="1"></iframe>Hello! If you're reading then you probably already know my story, but for those of you who came upon my page because someone shared a link, let me fill you in.
My name is Holly. On April 19, 2005, at age 20, I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML). After a few scary days and some testing, I was admitted to the Hospital at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia to begin induction chemotherapy. The treatments they use for induction chemotherapy require a 4-6 week hospital stay and 2-4 weeks of in home recovery, along with weekly doctors visits and LOTS of medications. Fast forward to September... My oncology team (love you guys!) determined that the best option for me was to have an allogenic bone marrow transplant (from an unrelated donor) because the only possible family match would be my brother, who was only 50%. A few weeks went by and they found a donor, but not just ANY donor, a perfect match! Everything was all set. I would be admitted on October 16, 2005, receive 2 doses of total body radiation and 3 extremely high doses of multiple chemotherapies. On October 21, 2005, I received my transplant from an awesome guy, Paul in Oregon. This was another long hospital stay. 7 weeks. I went home for Thanksgiving Day and had to go back in the very next day. I was at the beginning of a very long, very difficult, very scary road. I was determined and I had the very greatest support system. My family and friends, but especially my Mom. Not before long, I was getting back to "normal" life. I went back to school, back to work and before I knew it, cancer was starting to fade into my past and my future was looking bright.
In May of 2010, I chipped my fingernail down just a little too far at work. Over the course of a couple days, my finger started to hurt, so I called my primary care doctor. I was given a prescription for antibiotics and sent on my way. 5 weeks later, I woke up on a Monday morning after a long day at an outdoor concert, my right arm was hurting. It went from "I'll just take some Advil." to "Mom, we need to go to the ER NOW!" in about 20 minutes. That's when the fear hit me....Is it back? Could I start my life all over again? Could I survive? Upon arrival at the local ER, I was ushered quickly to the back. They started me on IV fluids and took my blood within minutes.
When the doctor had my results, she came in and didn't have to say a single word. Her somber expression and slumped shoulders told me all I needed to know.

"Your leukemia is back, we're arranging transport

I called my cousin Jen and she offered to ride in the ambulance with me.

By the time I got to Penn, my health had markedly declined. I was septic 5x over (5 different septic blood infections). My body had been so busy trying to keep the infection away, that the leukemia crept right back in.

The coming months are somewhat of a blur for me, I really only remember a few moments and what my family and friends have told me.

After I was admitted to Penn, it wasn't long before I was in the ICU total life support. I was out of options and out of time. My team of doctors called a meeting with my parents (who have been divorced since 1994) at the hospital. They told my parents that they needed to start thinking about long term care options for me or taking me off life support (pulling the plug). My Mom knew that I was still there. Finally, one doctor, who was practically pulled into my room by his white lab coat by my mother, saw me doing something no brain dead person could do. I was using finger spelling and signing D R I N K. I was in there. The doctors once again cam up with an ingenious plan. They started me on dialysis and slowly cleaned the infections and poison from my blood. Back to square one, a very long, very hard road in front of me. Before I would be discharged, I had to breathe on my own: check. I had to eat on my own: check. I had to get strong enough to walk again. I had to be able to go up 3 or 4 steps in the occupational therapy room. As fast as my health had plummeted, it rose again and soon enough I was home.

My doctors decided that the best treatment plan was to give me a stem cell transplant from my awesome donor Paul, as a booster shot type of deal in the hopes that my body would "remember" his bone marrow and go from there. Paul was more than willing because that's is the type of wonderful human being he is. I went in for what was for the most part, a blood transfusion. I went home the same day, hopeful and looking forward. Shaken, but not broken or irreparable.

Just as it does, life went on. I started dating again. I started working again. I travelled to and from Penn on a regular basis to check in, let them look at my blood tests..... Everything was fine, until October 25, 2011. Almost exactly one year after Paul and the oncologists at Penn saved me life for the second time, my doctors sat there staring at me. I could see it in their eyes. I could tell they were searching for the right words to say. It was back. Again. Round 3.

So I called my Mom, on her 8th wedding anniversary, to tell her I had cancer again... And I called my boyfriend on our one year anniversary to tell him I had cancer again.

This was it. I was sure, at first that I was nearing the end of my life. I was sure that I could keep fighting. Not mentally or physically. Not even with my amazing family and friends. Not even with total strangers praying for me. I just didn't know if I could endure. But again, my oncologist and her team of super hero friends (I'm not joking, they're like the Avengers of oncology!) had a plan. Another bone marrow transplant.

Those three words, bone marrow transplant, hit me like a brick wall. I barely made it out alive the first time. Then the first recurrence in 2010 and now this? I'll be honest and say that my faith was far beyond wavering, it was disappearing and fast. So, I decided I would have to fake it til I make it. I was in no way, shape, form or fashion ready to die. I had a lot of living I wanted to do.

On March 1 2012, I was once again admitted for a long stay. They found another kind, wonderful man, Tim, who was also a perfect match.

On March 8th, I received my second bone marrow transplant and once again began a journey along a road I had been traveling for quite some time. Once again, my health bounced back, I got better very quickly. I went back to work and back to dating.

That's when I met Bruce. We met on an online dating site and my profile was less than inviting. I was very clear that I had been through cancer 3 times and I didn't want to waste time. Bruce was very receptive of this. Fast Forward 2 ½ years later and we're engaged! As I'm sure you all know weddings cost money. We don't want anything extravagant. The amount I put on here is probably beyond what we need, but I want so badly to have a beautiful fairy tale wedding. Getting married was something I held on to. Unfortunately, I had to let go of bearing my own children, because of the radiation I received.

Please help Bruce and I to have our dream wedding surrounded by our families and close friends.