Want some free handmade gifts from some kids who think you’re cute as hell? How about some professional editing on a term paper? What about your cute relationship story turned into a professionally written narrative as a valentines gift? Read on to find out how!

 

Hi, my name's Kay. Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior Jesus Christ?

 

Lol, I'm kidding. I'm here to tell you about my partner Finn and some things that have been going on. And ultimately ask for help, if you have the ability to do so.

 

1. A QUICK RECAP OF FINN'S STORY UP TO NOW (HASN'T BEEN THEIR DAY FOR A COUPLE YEARS)

 

For those who haven’t followed this story (working title for the memoir: Healthcare Nightmare — The Patient Who Hallucinated Batman Outside a Hospital Window), my cute-as-fuck partner Finn Jaskowski (they/them pronouns) has Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.

 

 

 

 

The condition itself could be worse, but it has a number of comorbidities that can become severe — in Finn’s case, Gastroparesis. Essentially their stomach is partially paralyzed, making it impossible for them to digest food well or fast enough to meet their nutritional needs.

 

As it worsened, it was often a daily occurrence to discover them collapsed face-first on the kitchen floor while the cat nervously tried to paw them awake. After a complicated struggle to attain care, a surgeon installed a permanent feeding tube via a hole in their stomach. It’s pretty cool, but also pretty grody.

 

2. KEEP A ROOM AT THE HOSPITAL

 

We’ve kept this marginally under wraps, but Finn returned to Ann Arbor’s U of M hospital a week ago with an infection in the surgical site. It essentially made the tube useless and extremely painful. They progressively lost energy to do much but sleep, and began ralphing hot nasty chunks more and more frequently.

 

 

 

 

When they left, I remained in Grand Rapids to care for our special needs dog (blind, deaf, stupid). We were certain Finn would be home with antibiotics by morning. We were wrong. It wouldn’t be the last time.

 

The GI team found a piece of hardware left over from the tube placement embedded in the flesh between Finn’s skin and stomach (freaking ouch). It was definitely not supposed to be there, and would have to be surgically removed. Staff predicted Finn would be home in a couple days.

 

That was wrong again.

 

Additional complications meant that Finn would be hospitalized over Christmas Eve/Day. My heroic and talented friend Amber Kipp (graphic designer and web design specialist if you’re in need!) had me on the road to Ann Arbor within an hour and a half of the news. Finn and I both cried seeing each other again. We had no idea our emotions were about to be cranked up so loud the speakers would blow out.

 

3. WHEN YOU GO, I'LL BE THERE

 

I had barely slept the night before — all week really, thanks to the stress the dog and I had been under — so the following day, I succumbed to exhaustion around 3 or 4 p.m.

 

 

 

 

I woke up around six to the sound of a crash cart rolling into the room, along with a battalion of panicked doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff shouting in full-auto medical jargon. The phrases I did understand were “are they having a seizure” and “blood oxygen level has dropped to 80%.”

 

Finn struggled to breathe. They would later say it was the first time they actually thought they might be about to die. Holding their hand, watching the fear in their eyes as they began to suffocate inside their own body, I worried the same. I’m an anxious person, I had fearfully imagined a scenario at least 30 times over the last week. Was I watching the person I love most in the world die in front of me?

 

They stabilized, however, thanks to the hospital staff and a fucking amazing nurse named Cory. The complications aren’t over though. Their blood oxygen levels have continued to drop when they move around, even though they’re completely normal when sedentary in bed. This has been improving slowly, and hopefully it will plateau enough that I can drive them home.

 

HOW YOU CAN HELP!

 

This is where the Gofundme comes in.

 

 

 

 

Money has been a struggle this year thanks to both our health conditions. Finn’s mother has lovingly supported us, but is only humanly possible of going so far. Those who know me know that I’m also chronically ill and don’t have immediate family in my life — which means I have a serious lack of a safety net. Despite saving up ahead of time for Christmas gifts this year, we had to dip into that fund entirely — so we’re making do with a $50 Amazon gift card today, which we’ll split to pick out small gifts for each other. Everything else is going to survival and bills.

 

We have a number of daunting expenses to get through. A week in the hospital took a toll on our income. Plus, some major unexpected charges meant we still owe our landlord for a portion of last month’s rent — and we have to make our next rent bill on the 7th. I’m also insistent that we pick up an oximeter so I can watch Finn’s blood ox levels like a fucking hawk. I don’t intend to play fast and loose with the possibility this incident happens again.

 

We’ve received a lot of community support already — all of you have truly changed our lives. Hopefully this is the last time we have to ask for help. We both struggled with the will to ask — after everything we’ve been given already, we genuinely feel we don’t deserve to ask for additional help. Unfortunately we’re in a position with little choice — but know that we’re not offended and won’t harbor secret grudges if anyone decides they’ve given enough already. You have.

 

We’re hopefully on the verge of stability in terms of our finances and medical situation. I’m working as much as I can at the moment (which varies depending on the clients and my health). I’m working with a number of medical specialists to get past some really debilitating side effects from one of my absolutely necessary medications, and another specialist to schedule an operation to fix the condition (R-CPD) that has made my mobility, cognitive processing, and day-to-day functioning difficult for years now. In even better news, I was able to qualify for a local program that helps people applying for disability to speed up the process. Two weeks ago, my social worker told me the determination should arrive within a couple weeks. Both my doctor and my therapist confirmed they wrote passionate testimony in my favor. Assuming disability is approved, Finn and I will be in a very stable position to focus on repairing our bodies and living a happy and functional life again.

 

HEY, WHAT ABOUT THOSE PRESENTS YOU MENTIONED?!

 

 

 

 

Lastly, I bet you’re still wondering about those presents we mentioned (it’s the best part of Christmas after all). We wanted to find a way to give back this time. That’s why we’ve come up with a series of handmade gifts we plan to send to every single one of our donors. We will have more options available as we get on our feet and feel well enough to start putting some work in, but a few early choices include:

 

 

Additionally, I’d like to offer the one service/skill I have — a long, professional career in editing, ghostwriting, journalism, human interest stories, lyricism, and more. In lieu of a gift, for every $20 you donate, I’ll dedicate an hour of my professional time to any writing or editing project of your choosing (no questions asked, no matter how weird). The only catch is — you’ll have to bear with my pace and schedule based on current events and my health. You can always reach out to me via the usual channels for samples of my work, a resume, or with any questions. I’m always looking for more work too, so like. Yeah. Feel free to send offers there too if you got ‘em.

 

Thank you so much. We love you. We can’t wait to see you all after we get home. Every single one of you is cute as goddamn hell.