My name is David Ferguson, and I’m reaching out during one of the lowest times of my sober life. I recently lost my job just as I was preparing to apply to graduate school programs, and now I’m facing the uncertainty of a possible cancer diagnosis. I won’t know more until December, and the waiting is heavy. My husband, Benjamin, is doing everything he can to keep us steady, but his sister is very sick in Puerto Rico, and he hasn’t been able to visit her as much as he should. I can't kid myself that my reduced earning capacity after my heart attack in 2018 isn't making that harder on him. We just don't have discretionary travel money.

On top of all this, I’m still carrying the weight of medical bills from that heart attack in 2018 and a platelet disorder diagnosis in 2023. The stress of these old bills, along with new co-pays and the costs of upcoming tests and possible treatments, is overwhelming. I want to be able to work out payment arrangements for the old bills, cover my medical expenses, and, if it turns out I have cancer, get the treatment I need.

I'm also hoping to set aside some funds for admission fees and other expenses as I work toward returning to school for a master’s degree in writing—a dream I’m not ready to give up on. But all of that requires (ugh) money. I know that everyone is barely hanging on right now—spiritually, physically, and financially. I know that mine is just a little sorrow in a world that sometimes feels like it’s coming apart. So many of you have already given so much to help me keep going when things felt impossible, and I am deeply grateful. Thank you for your love and support—I promise if you can find it in your heart to help I will never stop giving back everything I can in return.