Hi all. I'm not sure how many are fully aware of our situation the last few months because my dad wanted it to remain private, and I wanted to respect his wishes. But, back in late February… just days after my birthday, I went to wake him up on a Saturday morning, only to find him standing up, completely unaware of his surroundings, unable to speak or respond to commands or stimuli. I called my mom to come pick up Wolfgang while I was calling 911 and also trying to keep my dad alert and make sure Wolf was in another room distracted. And thank God things timed out perfectly and my mom got here to watch Wolf while I helped the paramedics. And then as everyone left at once, I packed a bag of clothes, documents, keys, and left.

After what was absolutely the most torturous 48 hours of my life, they finally diagnosed him with acute renal failure that had advanced enough over the course of those 48 hrs, he’d eventually lost almost all of his motor functions, eventually even being unable to swallow properly on his own. And unfortunately, it was a very gradual process that I had to watch unfold before me, completely helpless, where he gradually lost more and more function each hour. And I remember being there alone and how helpless I felt because I could see in his eyes that his mind was still there and so I could still see fear. I remember thinking the moment he forgot my name was the worst, until the worst of the pain took over, and it was severe enough that even though he couldn’t remember my name or speak, he would still grab for my hand during the worst moments, and I gathered every ounce of strength I’d built over the course of my life to fight back my own tears, so that I could attempt to ease even a fraction of his fear when I saw the tears in his own eyes. And so as much as I hated being alone in that hospital all of those weeks because I knew some part of me would never be the same, I’m also grateful I’m the only one that had to be there during the worst of it, because I knew God had spent most of my life preparing me for those moments.

However, working together, he and I beat the odds and turned an 8-week stay into a 1-week stay. Unfortunately, a week later he had a procedure scheduled that was supposed to be a day surgery under light sedation. So, the hospital approved it, but we were notified by his physician of his recent renal issues and specifically advised to use “no propofol.” And then I reminded the surgeon the day of, at least 3-4 times, “no propofol.” And they assured me he wouldn’t even receive anesthesia. But as you can guess by now, they not only used propofol, but also a high dose of fentanyl, which I didn’t find out about for almost 12 hours. They also didn’t allow him to recover properly before releasing him. He was supposed to be awake, coherent, and able to walk. Instead, he’d never once fully regained consciousness, oxygen sat never made it out of the 80’s, BP was dangerously low, and heart rate went from elevated, to high, to afib. And because they released him to me in that unconscious state, after surgery, he ended up falling and fracturing 6 more vertebrae and his pelvic bone. But just like in the hospital the first time, he kept saying he would be out in a week. And my answer was always “prove it.” And as long as he’d fight and put in the work, I was right there beside him. But as soon as we recovered from that came the cancer diagnosis. And yet somehow we both found the fight, the resolve, and the strength to get up and go again. And when they said his chance of remission after the first round of treatment was 20-30%, we respectfully said, “you haven’t met us yet.” And so now, here we are, about 8 weeks post diagnosis practically on the cusp of remission. Which has his entire oncology team baffled. But we’re exhausted. And he still has weeks of treatments and appointments in Birmingham.

As much as I’ve tirelessly worked quite literally around the clock for the last 4 months to avoid this, and I have had my mom to help out so much, unfortunately, we’ve reached a point where I’ve exhausted absolutely every resource, gone through my own savings and investments, used my breaks in the middle of the night when I did my cleaning to become an extreme couponer, balanced our house financials better than any corporate CFO could even attempt. As much as I hate to admit defeat, I’m just no match for the healthcare system's expense system.

Even though we feel like we may be starting to gain some ground in terms of his health, we are still in the early stages of treatment, and the real bills have just started coming in. And they are big. For all that I’ve done to prevent this day from arriving, it has still come, and in a big way. There isn’t just “a pile” of medical bills like people used to talk about. I spent 3 days in Nashville, (what was supposed to be the first break I’ve had in 4 months) organizing them. And they covered 3 large tables, separated into 29 different stacks. We, of course, have been and will continue to apply for every kind of grant and type of financial assistance available. But based on the news lately, it sounds like if anything, those funds will be harder to attain rather than be in more abundance. And at some point my clinical research role will end, and I will have to go back to work traveling and possibly even sleep again, lol. So, any help, even the smallest amounts, would be greatly appreciated.

We are fundraising to cover the overwhelming medical bills that have accumulated due to my dad's acute renal failure, cancer treatment, medical travel, living expenses, and ongoing treatment.

This fundraiser is for my dad, who has been battling acute renal failure, Lambda Light Chain Multiple Myeloma, 6 fractured vertebrae, a fractured pelvis, and the accompanying complications.

the funds will be used to cover medical expenses and prescription costs.