If you know Zach, you know he is one of the kindest people you could ever meet. He is thoughtful, funny, intelligent, deeply compassionate, and the kind of person who shows up for others without hesitation. He is a devoted husband and an incredible father. He did not deserve what happened to him.

In August 2023, a neuroinvasive enterovirus was brought into our home from our child’s preschool. When Zach first developed neurological symptoms, I called 911 for help. In the ER, he was repeatedly dismissed as having only a migraine and anxiety. Staff even told him, “he had wasted their time.” He was sent home in an Uber before I could even arrive at the hospital. What was actually happening was viral meningitis and enterovirus encephalitis. Within three days, Zach had to be rapidly intubated and placed in a medically induced coma.

Encephalitis is how people die from rabies. It is incredibly painful; the increasing brain inflammation left Zach screaming and begging God/medical staff to let him die. His opening spinal pressure was 54! Normal is 20 or below. Today, he lives with scars on his brain, a mark of both what happened and the challenges his future holds. Recovery is not a sprint. It is not even a marathon. It results in lifelong disability that continues to take from both the survivor and their family long after discharge papers are signed. That is the reality we are living in now, nearly two and a half years later. This is why I am here asking for help. Life has not moved on easily. We feel stuck medically and financially.

Zach survived, but survival was only the beginning. In addition to brain inflammation, Zach endured the virus attacking multiple other organs, causing viral myocarditis, rhabdomyolysis, severe lung failure requiring a ventilator and chemical paralysis, and six pulmonary embolisms, plus seizures. He now has hearing loss requiring hearing aids, requires nighttime oxygen support, takes multiple seizure medications, and continues to need various therapies and updated scans to regain as much function as possible.

Various levels of memory loss continue to be Zach’s biggest challenge. Today, Zach has significant gaps in memory before the virus. A small, yet significant example: He does not remember his son Zane being born. Some days, he struggles to recall his son’s birthdate. Some of life’s precious memories are gone. Zach already missed so much. His son took his first steps and said his first words while his dad’s life was hanging in the balance. Zach also lives with daily working memory and speech challenges, ongoing fatigue, and migraines. He even lost his sense of direction and can easily get lost.

We are grateful every single day that he is alive. But we are not ready to settle for “just alive.” We want to bring as much of the full Zach back as possible, and the best time to do so is within five years of his acquired brain injury.

Since his discharge, we have faced overwhelming medical expenses — many not covered or are poorly covered by insurance. Despite carrying a critical illness policy for nearly a decade from a popular insurance company offered through my work, we learned that:

• Viral meningitis was not covered (only bacterial). Note that this virus does not have a vaccine available in the US.

• Myocarditis was not covered because it did not result in a heart attack, though he required life-saving measures when his heart rate dropped into the 20s and left outcomes of his heart rate and blood pressure never returning back to his pre-coma baseline.

• Rhabdomyolysis was not covered despite all of the muscle loss and physical limitations it left him with.

• Lung failure and pulmonary embolisms were not covered (only a lung transplant would have been).

• The encephalitis payout was minimal, a drop in the bucket given encephalitis required an ambulance transfer to a higher acuity hospital while on life support and made him one of the sickest patients, 15 days in a coma with a 1:1 nurse in the ICU.

Gaps in insurance care have been the second nightmare, and it feels like another system has failed us.

Zach had to transition to short- and long-term disability during the initial illness and recovery period, reducing our income significantly when we needed it the most. At the time, I was a stay-at-home mom. We had previously blown through all of our savings after my own medical crisis with the birth of our daughter. Yes, I almost died having her, and Zach almost died sending her to preschool… I have since returned to work but am part-time so I can remain home with our children, avoiding mass childcare to reduce further illness exposure. Now, even a fever could trigger seizures and more for Zach. We are especially cautious during this critical five-year neurological recovery window.

We have done everything we can.We have been on payment plans for two and a half years, with the balance of $8,171 remaining. You can only imagine where it started. This is holding us back from trying new therapies. 

We have taken out a HELOC.

We have withdrawn from both of our retirement plans.

We have cut and sacrificed and adjusted.

We have put medical bills on credit cards.

Some medical bills have even gone to collections.

Now our insurance costs have gone up since the New Year.

And we are still carrying overwhelming medical debt.

When Zach was first hospitalized, many people offered to start a GoFundMe for Zach. I declined because I truly believed our Critical Illness Policy would help us. I had no idea that someone as sick as Zach wouldn’t be able to access the plan we’ve been paying into. We did not want to ask for help on this scale until truly needed. So now that the fine print has been made clear and the fallout of it continues to hurt, here I am humbly asking. 

February is Encephalitis Awareness Month. One thing I’ve learned for sure is that leaving the hospital is not the end of the story — it is the beginning of a completely different life. Zach fights every single day to recover more memory, more clarity, more independence. The emotional toll of knowing what you’ve lost — and fighting to regain it — is enormous. As his wife, I have a front row seat to this. Zach is putting in the hard work and he keeps a positive attitude, but walls built out of our control stop progress.

If you feel led to support us, whether through prayer, sharing this page, checking in on Zach, or donating even $5 or $10 — it truly matters. Giving up one coffee this week could help ease a burden that has felt impossible to carry alone. Two hardworking adults should not still be facing such hardship because of a virus. Yet here we are.

Any support will go directly toward:

More than anything, this is about giving Zach the peace of mind to focus on healing — and giving our children the father they deserve for as many years as possible.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading. Thank you for caring. And thank you for being part of our village.

With gratitude,

Laura