In need of HELP – A Father’s Fight for More Time

"I never imagined I’d be writing this… but here we are, praying for a miracle." and asking for help!

My husband, Brian (45), has spent the last 25 years battling heart failure—a cruel thief that stole his dreams of playing Division I basketball, his strength, and the future he once envisioned. His first defibrillator was placed before he even turned 21, and since then, he’s endured countless surgeries, medications, and the emotional weight of knowing his heart is literally failing him.

Now, his heart is declining rapidly...

We have two beautiful children—Saige (10) and Ivy (9)—who adore their father. They need him. I need him. We prayed desperately for guidance, and God answered loudly: the LVAD (left ventricular assist device) is our only hope to buy him more time—time for laughter, memories, and maybe, one day, the transplant. But even then, we know a transplant won’t last forever. We are using the LVAD as a long bridge to the transplant, in order to have just a little more time together. There is a gamble with any decision we would make (each one with their own risk of ending Brian's life abruptly!). At 45, every day is a precious gift we’re fighting to hold onto. How is it possible that a man at 45 could be worried about how much time he has left to enjoy his life? My heart just aches and breaks

The Reality We’re Facing

- 3+ weeks in the hospital, an hour away from home—gas, parking, meals, etc.

- Mounting medical bills, co-pays, and home care needs that SSDI can’t fully cover.

- The emotional toll—watching the strongest man I know struggle to walk, breathe, or even love on our kids without exhaustion.

- The fear—of complications, of pain, of the unknown. Brian hates asking for help, hates people seeing him weak. But he’s the most compassionate, loving man—always putting others first, even when he’s suffering. He has never been one to be honest about how unstable his health is and the struggles he goes through daily.

Why We Need Your Help

I’ve had to step into roles I never expected—caregiver, emotional anchor, the source of strength and positivity—all while trying to keep our kids’ lives stable. The financial strain is crushing us. I don’t want Brian worrying about bills when he should be focusing on survival. These are things we were never able to budget for because we never imagined this would be our life right now, so quickly. I'll be juggling time between Brian’s bedside and also making sure Saige and Ivy feel safe, loved, and normal—even though nothing about this is normal.

Brian’s Light in This World

If you’ve ever met Brian, you know—people are drawn to him. His smile, his kindness, his unwavering faith. Even now, he’s more concerned about others than himself. He’s been our rock, but now, I need to be his. Brian hates feeling weak, hates that he can’t just fix this for our family, and hates that we even have to ask for help—but the truth is, we’re drowning!

We’re trusting God, but we’re also humbly asking for your support. If you can donate—even $5—it means one less burden, one more moment of peace. If you can’t, we covet your prayers more than anything.

Please… Help Us Keep Brian Here Longer

Please, share this far and wide

Between the stress of his declining health, the fear of what comes next and the unknown, in addition to the sheer exhaustion of trying to hold it all together... the financial strain feels like the final weight that could break us, break me, while trying to hold it all together for my family’s sake.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you. We believe in miracles, and we believe in the goodness of God placing compassion in the hearts of His children!

May God Bless You,

Jessica, Brian, Saige & Ivy

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