*If you are averse to reading, the TD;LR is at the end

First, the backdrop:

Gather ‘round. Bring tissues because, as Tony Stark would say, “it's going to be a real tear jerker”.

I preface this by stating that I am a lifelong artist. Classically trained, as well as, a tech nerd, attaining multiple IT certifications.

The year is 2017. The world was drowning in gasoline, but not yet burning. I was driving through a parking lot on an otherwise normal day. It was the weekend near the end of summer. I turned my head to the left, and the world went Helter Skelter for all of a few moments. I was alarmed, but not nearly alarmed enough.

I had remembered a co-worker complaining of vertigo the week before and this felt like that. Spoiler: it was not. I went into work and asked about her experience, to which the key take away was that it would subside in about a week. Week came and went. Two weeks. It didn't fully go away. I got up one day feeling ill and tried to nurse it. I grew increasingly nauseous. I tried to down something and shortly thereafter, threw up on my bed. Something was very wrong. It would get worse with each moment.

I attempted to reach the toilet in case I had more to come up. 10 feet away. My legs gave out in 2. I bear-crawled after grabbing my phone. I came to a stop between the toilet and the shower. Picture that scene in the movie of the down on their luck druggie ODing. Yes. Just like that. I texted my sister “I need you now. Come help me”. I'm paraphrasing. She found me in that self-same spot. A deteriorating husk of her brother. “It looks worse than it is”, I said. “I need a hospital. I can't walk”, came out while I could still speak. Her and my roommate helped me scoot downstairs. As one were a baby. She loaded me up. Drove me there, and a few grueling hours and confirmations later, I was recommended to a waning institution(this is important) for rehab as an acute stroke survivor.

A few days go by and, with a dosage of steroids I start to bounce back. The doc, in legendary wisdom does not want to hook me on steroidal use, and so stops the dosages early. This is crucial. Through terrible treatment and forgotten appointments and just being ignored as the young guy in a field on 80+ victims, I discharge with the knowledge that I never wanna be here again. I went back to work for a week at most and relapsed. Bad. I'm taken to the hospital then, and I'm stabilzed after some intense care. They want me to go back to that sopt for more rehab. NEVER. I ask for another name on the list. The lesser of 2 evils, it turns out.

(Abridged)I'm taken to the rehab center where for the next few months the young man in an old man's game takes on a deeper context. Last to eat. Last to be seen. Last. I write the foundations of 2 novels in my time waiting to die. I lost control of my left side, which, controversially, does ALOT more than you think(talking to you righties). I can't speak. I can't walk. I can't look to the left all the way. I can't hold myself steady. At first. I go from reset to 70% in 3 months.

I come home on my birthday at ~75%. I'm using a wheelchair and a walker. I'm down to 124 lbs from 175. Testament to my malnutrition and the deficiencies of the American healthcare system, but I digress. Skip forward. I ween myself, with aid, off the wheelchair. Off the walker, then, off the cane. 85%. I can't do most former things, and worse of all, I cannot steadily draw. My life is gone. They break that 100% is never going to happen. The vertigo is permanent. I improved over time, sitting today, almost 8 years later at 97%. But that 3%... that 3% means so much. I am thankful for my will. For my continued presence. For my family's unrelenting care, of course.

This is paramount to understanding why I've humbly asked you here.

Second, the lead up:

I started working at (a job) in April, 2014. My star rose, and waned, and rose again.

*I was your liaison for all of major sports(NFL, NBA, NHL, MLB...) for the last decade. The shadow mover. Important to the entertainment of America. Particularly during the pandemic. *multiple each league by ~32 teams, and then remember, they are billionaires and own random companies too.

Integral...or so you would think. Due to downsizing, outsourcing, greed, or whatever floats your boat, I, among others, was "involuntarily separated". A.K.A I lost my job but with a severance package. healthy, but not nearly enough, who am I kidding?? The ghost of Christmas future came to me and said, "invest in yourself and the future will be bright". Machine learning is on the rise and data science seemed the way and I was presented a chance to take a course to "reset" myself. the course was $13,500. Most of my severance after taxes, but it was necessary. Plus I'd get a discount if I paid it off sooner. $9K. Great....or was it??? The course lasts until March, 2025. Legit. The plan is a go.

Fast forward to February, 2025. Passing. Learning. Coding. It's all down to this, The money is exhausted and we are scraping the floor. We've applied to at least 3 jobs a week that are "hiring". No dice. Mind you, my skillset rivals most executives. They ask if I need an extension, at $1300 a month. What? NOOOOO. But the prompts are JUST slick enough that one is accidentally clicked. Realizing in horror, I hurry up and email support to get it canceled/reversed. Success. However...(now comes the meat)

I am duly informed, That a few payments did not process from last year. I am at a loss. Surly the jest? Nope. He provides a screenshot. I check my banking app. Sure enough, there was over $22K resting in savings a few days later, but I was never notified anything was amiss. Ya know, like, "Sorry sir it looks like a few THOUSAND dollars didn't go there. Help?". I was allowed to continue as normal. Which brings us to now. My hopes and dreams will effectively cease come next month, should the balance remain. I'm devastated and infuriated. HOW. HOW SWAY?!?

My recourse has lead me to this desperate appeal. Should you choose to fund me, know that every effort to enact restitution will be in order(I will work with you to pay you back in time).

*TL;DR- Guy has a stroke at 32. is later let go from a 10-year job. Unemployed for a year, not for lack of searching. Enrolls in course for in-demand skills. Not notified of payment issues, despite having funds at the time. Told near the end, pay up or no cert. Crys profusely.