The Vital Heidi Miller
Facing cancer with wit and wisdom
Update on this post: Heidi Miller passed away peacefully at home with her son Max by her side on May 1, 2025. This piece was published about 7 months prior.
Meet my friend Heidi Miller, a hospice nurse and mother with a lot to share about cancer, patient care, and living life.
If you are moved by her story and would like to support her with a financial donation, you may do so here.
Max is a beast in the kitchen.
Naming his best dish isn’t easy for Heidi Miller, Max’s mom. If she could only name one favorite, it would have to be his steak and fries.
Like a true gourmet chef, 13-year-old Max will only give away part of his recipe. First, fry the steak in the pan with butter. Then season it with pepper, garlic salt, and other secret spices (he really won’t tell!). Then let it rest before serving.
If you know Heidi, you know she’d love nothing more than to whisk Max to Paris for a mother-son culinary-school vacation. Until that can happen, Max learns to cook from YouTube videos. Gordon Ramsay is one of his favorite teachers.
“I love being a mom,” Heidi sighs. She always dreamed of being a stay-at-home mom. “I guess now I am,” she adds, “just for all the wrong reasons.”
Then and Now
Up until a few years ago, my friend Heidi was a single mom who worked as a registered nurse, raised her son, and struggled through personal challenges like most everyone else. Today, she has terminal Stage IV cancer, and notes that preparing for death is oddly similar to preparing for the birth of a baby.
The Heidi I have always known - the one who is funny, forward-looking, and resilient, with a heart the size of the Mall of America - is still there. This is a woman who will always greet a familiar face with a warm smile and genuine conversation.
The cancer can’t take away the friend, the professional, or the mother she is. But it’s giving her a run for her money. Heidi’s GoFundMe page shares a brief history of her battle with the disease.
First, the Bad News
Just how bad is it? Pretty bad.
A liver injury from chemo. Adverse reactions to medication. And, at last count, 25 lesions in her liver. “It’s an anomaly that I'm still here.”
Dr. Vina Nguyen, Heidi’s oncologist, wrote the following update about her status on September 4, 2024:
I am taking care of Ms. Heidi Miller for stage IV metastatic breast cancer, which is incurable and was originally diagnosed as stage IV in 2021.
The cancer has spread to the liver, lungs, and bones. She is on indefinite treatment with chemotherapy. Prognosis is unfortunately limited, likely less than two years or possibly less than one year.
The side effects of the treatment also cause significant fatigue, such that she cannot work a full time job. She will also need extra time for clinic visits and follow up testing.
Heidi is grateful to be on oral medication that she tolerated well, but the respite from nausea and extreme fatigue is coming to an end. Her latest scan shows the cancer has progressed. Heidi will need to revert to IV chemo, which plagues her with side effects. Nevertheless, Heidi is hoping the chemo will give her more time.
Most days are just plain hard. “Right now I’m not going one day at a time. It’s one moment at a time. It’s a lot of work to stay mentally sound and present.”
A Mother’s Love
Recently, Heidi and Max had been reading The Great Gatsby together while Heidi recovered from Covid.
As any mom of a teen knows, cozy reading days are few and far between by this age. “This is fun, Mom,” Max said, shortly before drifting off to sleep to the sound of Heidi reading. It was a moment made incredibly poignant due to the stark reality of Heidi’s diagnosis.
Part of what Heidi sees as her “job” of getting ready to die is to help prepare Max for her death. She has done her best to fill his cup with memories of special places and good times together. “I’m trying to get everything in order.”
What breaks Heidi’s heart more than anything is thinking about not being there for Max. Her biggest wish is for a cure for her cancer. But more realistically, Heidi simply longs to spend as much time as possible with Max. “I want to be here to see him settle into high school.”
Heidi finds herself emotionally and mentally restored after spending time with animals. Her fantasy for the future is to live in the country and have a big animal rescue. “I have so much love to give to animals.”
God Coming Through
The experience with cancer has deepened Heidi’s relationship with God. She’s faced her share of hardship and regrets, but one gift that has come of her illness is being able to forgive herself. “I still ask myself, ‘Why didn’t I do things differently?’ but I know God forgives me.”
Due to her extensive experience in hospice care, Heidi’s not scared of dying. “I’ve seen beautiful deaths, and I knew God was right there.”
She remembers being with one woman who reached up and smiled right before she passed away. Another patient took her last breath one afternoon, and at that exact moment, bells from a nearby church started to ring as beams of light poured through the French doors.
“The sad part isn’t about the person who’s dying. It’s only sad for the people left behind.”
Still on the Clock
With the uncertainty around her prognosis and a very real need to make ends meet, Heidi has been actively interviewing for jobs. She is hoping to find a part-time, remote nursing position. Heidi is grateful to see Max developing well socially and wanting to spend time with friends, motivating her further to work while she can.
Heidi has managed to avoid going on permanent disability, after which she would be unable to be employed. She has used all her short-term disability. “There’s the practical aspect of having to pay bills and live life, but facing it all with an unknown timeline. I feel like if the doctors told me, ‘You’re going to die on X date,’ I would have some relief.”
Meanwhile, her lifeline has been the GoFundMe page started by her friend Michelle Zoolalian in February 2024. The page has received almost 200 donations, totaling over $30,000.
Heidi is hopeful that reaching her goal of $75,000 would help her catch up on lost wages due to missed work, and maybe even get ahead for when she’s unable to work later. Heidi has welcomed every donation as a blessing, no matter the amount.
If Heidi reaches her goal, where will the money go? “It’s hard to say what I’ll need.” Having seen firsthand how quickly a cancer patient’s health can go downhill, she wants to be ready for the worst, “I might need to hire caregivers. There are so many expenses.”
More to Give
“I want to believe in a miracle. I feel I have more to do with my life in addition to being a mom to my son,” Heidi says.
Heidi has always loved older people and those she treated in hospice. She was enthralled by stories of the lives they lived before they were sick.
Some of Heidi’s unfinished business includes an idea she has for humanizing a patient’s experience when receiving medical care. “Medical staff would give more personalized care after reading a brief life summary of the person they’re treating. That way, they’re not just treating the medical vitals. They know the patient’s real vitals.”
A Moment to Dream
In the spirit of Mom Date, I asked Heidi what she’d do if she woke up to find Max was hanging with his dad and Heidi was given a one-day break from cancer.
Heidi was overwhelmed at the thought of not being filled with worry, of being free of medicine, and of having no cancer symptoms in her body. It’s been years since she experienced a day like that.
Here’s what she said:
I’d hike. I’d have a whole day of energy. It would be fun to ride bikes with friends. We’d go for lunch, maybe to a nice waterside restaurant like Gladstones. Then I’d go to the farmer’s market.
Or maybe I’d fly to Minnesota. I’d have so much energy and surprise my family. I haven’t spent as much time with my nieces due to my health. I’d surprise them and take them to the park.
I wouldn’t be tired or nauseous. Whatever I’d do would be exciting, because I’d be free from the side effects of cancer.
One compliment Heidi often heard from friends was, “You and Max are always on the go.” After Heidi got off work, they were always bouncing around to different places: a restaurant, the park, or somewhere to skateboard.
The other comment she heard from moms was, “Max has the best lunches.”
Heidi says, “After my double mastectomy, someone paid for me to have a private caregiver while I healed.” She chuckles as she remembers her commitment to the lunches. “I couldn’t use my arms, but I stood next to the caregiver and directed her on what to put in each section of the bento box. It was so that I could give Max one thing that was consistent - great lunches.”
Last, the Good News
Heidi will admit she’s felt desperate since her cancer diagnosis. She’s learned to ask for help. “You can’t save your ass and your face at the same time,” she quips.
When Heidi was first diagnosed with cancer, “I felt so lifted up, because I don’t have family nearby.” The tight-knit community of families at St. Mark School in Venice, where Max was an elementary student at the time, stepped up to help in a big way.
It’s been the kindness of family, friends, and even strangers that has gotten Heidi this far, but she’s quick to point to her faith in a pretty good backup plan. “God’s got me.”
If you’ve read this far, please consider a $25 donation - or whatever you can afford - to help Heidi and Max. Thank you.
Whether you’re able to make a financial donation or not, please keep Heidi and Max in your prayers.
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