Support Rose Carter's Battle Against Rare Cancer

Ask any law firm in Downtown Honolulu who Rose Carter is, and you will find someone who’ll say, “I know Rose!” It’s always said with an uplifted tone because in the typical sea of law office drama, that’s what Rose offers everyone: Pure joy and kindness.

When I first moved back home to Oahu in 2017, I had no job prospects. Having lived in New York for so long, I didn’t know anyone in Hawaii’s legal field except for my mother’s longtime friend, who passed my resume on to her friend. That was Rose.

Rose’s firm hired me. Since I had no knowledge of Hawaii’s legal system, Rose took me under her wing and guided me through what I can only describe as a crash course in aggressive litigation. As the weeks passed, I slowly learned to fly.

Everything I know about Rose, I learned from our lunches together. It turned out that Rose could be seen on TV every Sunday morning. As you flipped through channels looking for cartoons, you could find her playing the organ and banjo via church telecast for the Apostolic Faith Church (you know, the one with the giant “JESUS COMING SOON” sign that could be spotted from the freeway passing Kalihi).

The church was (and still is) everything to Rose. She helped prepare the telecasts, sang in the choir, and was pianist, organist, Youth Leader and Sunday school teacher. In between all of that, she was very active in the legal community as a volunteer speaker/teacher for the Hawaii State Bar Association and a KCC paralegal instructor. Community service had been instilled in Rose thanks to her family and her church, but it was at home where Rose really shined.

Rose had an older brother with mental challenges. With compassion and wit, Rose researched and utilized every government program she could to get her brother the services he needed. As he boarded the shuttle that picked him up for daily activities, he would tell Rose he was going to work, and she would wave goodbye to him. When a heart attack took his life, in the same year that God called her younger sister home from cancer, Rose and her younger brother were left as primary caretakers for their devastated parents.

As the years passed, things improved for the now family of four. Rose moved on to another firm, and as fate would have it, I soon followed her. It was there that I began to notice tiny complaints from Rose about lower back pain. At first, she thought it was the long hours sitting in front of a computer with the AC hitting her back, so she would squirm and adjust, using heat packs to ease the pain. It took a while before the doctors realized that it was something much more than sciatica, and in March 2021, at the height of the pandemic, they discovered a very rare cancerous bone tumor called Chordoma had formed at the base of Rose’s spine. Only 1 in a million people are diagnosed per year with an 86% chance of survival IF the cancer remains localized. If that wasn’t enough bad news to max out the yearly quota, heaven then decided to call Rose’s father home.

As people retreated into pandemic seclusion in their homes, Rose began her silent, solitary battle away from friends and family with radiotherapy and a rollercoaster of emotions as one of history’s most contagious and deadly viruses made its rounds. There were countless MRIs, CT scans, and doctors, including specialists who had to be flown in from the mainland for four complicated surgeries to scrape out the cancer. Serious post-surgery infections landed Rose back in the hospital when the incisions did not fuse together. The thought of having to reopen and clean the wound was terrifying, and as her already weakened immune system struggled to heal her body, Rose soon found herself wheelchair-bound and unable to control any bladder or bowel movements.

Being a very private person, Rose told only those around her who needed to know about her condition, and I could only listen in silence and redirect questions from the many people who inquired about her. They knew she had cancer but they did not know how bad it was. When the light at the end of the pandemic tunnel finally came, only then did they realize just how much she had suffered both physically and financially.

They say that for those who are immunocompromised, a hug can kill. In Rose’s case, it almost did. A well-meaning individual who probably did not know the risk gave Rose a hug that sent her to the E.R. in early 2024. Our office sat quietly in wait, feeling in our gut that this time was different. Somehow by the grace of God, Rose survived, but unfortunately new problems developed as Rose’s mother’s dementia worsened. To rub salt into the wound, her mother now asks daily about where Rose’s father is; her anxiety sometimes leads to E.R. visits for treatment.

But Rose only speaks of how lucky she is and how God has shown mercy by helping her to survive all these trials. By a miracle, she regained control of her bladder and bowel movements, and can now get around using a walker. She finds strength and faith in her God to carry her through every challenge whether it is physical, mental, or financial. Throughout it all, she has remained strong, resolute, and still firmly believes that everything happens for a reason. She will be the first to say that “we learn through our challenges and struggles and become a better version of ourselves.” That is the kind of person she is.

As she fights this battle, she realizes that even as positive and self-sufficient as she is, she needs help, and she needs it now. So, for all the times that Rose has stepped forward to selflessly give to others, on behalf of Rose, I humbly ask for your help with the medical, rehabilitation, and caregiving expenses which will help to make her life much lighter and brighter. All funds will go directly to and be available only to Rose. We thank you for your time and consideration!

With love and hope,

Tina Kaku, Friend of Rose

(A nobody that Rose helped to become a somebody.)