Help James Graves Breathe Easy Again

My father isn’t one to vocalize when he needs help; he doesn’t ask for charity and rarely discusses his financials with anyone. He is the first one to pinch pennies and go without to give to a family when they’re in need. He helped create an entire fundraiser for a fellow firefighter who was involved in a devastating accident. He spent years as a dedicated member of Charles City Volunteer Fire Department, running calls in the middle of the night and leaving a scene only to go to work because it hit 6 a.m. I can vividly remember multiple structure fires where we were 2 of 3 people on scene. He would run a hose by himself to try and save someone’s home. He spent years in the back of an ambulance assuring patients that he was there for them and would do everything he could to make it better. He only stopped because his lungs were no longer safe enough for an SCBA. He would’ve made a career out of it and tried, but his lungs weren’t able to keep up with the PAT test.

While he won’t vocalize, he needs help, I will. He will need funding for transplant, for the hospital stays, for his home. I know my family will rally together, like we always do for each other, but I think it’s important to ask for help when it’s needed. If you have an extra dollar or five to spare, we would appreciate it immensely. He has a long road ahead of him, and financially it will alleviate some of his stress and anxiety.

As some of you know, my dad, James Graves, is in end stages of COPD/Emphysema. This, coupled with his Alpha-1 antitrypsin (AAT) deficiency and Factor V Leiden (blood clotting disorder), has caused enough damage to warrant a lung transplant. In November of 2023, he was referred to UVA Health’s lung transplant program. After months of tests and procedures, including a heart closure, they deemed him ready for transplant in July of 2024 after a Nissen surgery (for acid reflux) to be done in September of 2024. UVA advised him and his family that after September he would be listed for transplant. After countless days (and I do mean days) spent at UVA Health, my father had exhausted his leave balances for these appointments and went a few months of pay with 2 to 3 days of unpaid leave. During this process, he decided before the Nissen surgery, he would retire from Henrico County because multiple surgeries and then transplant would take him out of commission for work for countless months, and without leave, it would be impossible to be paid.

While doing the UVA transplant program, every single piece of advice they gave, for example, cutting out soda, stopping drinking beer as frequently, and exercising, my father did to a T. He hasn’t touched a soda since November of 2023; he started daily walks with their dog and dropped drinking as frequently. He continued to follow their every command in hopes of transplant.

In July of 2024, when they deemed him ready for transplant, he decided to retire from his job. Without leave, short-term disability just wouldn’t be feasible. It wasn’t a decision he made lightly because the man was not made to sit around; he enjoys the structure of a hard-working day. He advised the team that he would be retiring and going onto a specific health plan that would cover transplant. So, his insurance was changing from Anthem to Sentara Health (Medicare). UVA Health pushed back at this, worried that he wouldn’t be able to cover the costs of transplant, medication, and everything needed. Transplants are costly procedures, and some of the medications after transplant can be upwards of thousands of dollars without sufficient healthcare, so one of the requirements for transplant is financial security. We assured them we would do everything in our power to continue for transplant. They agreed, so it was still set after September 25th (his Nissen surgery). After he was healed, he would be listed.

On September 24th, he retired from Henrico County after countless years in their public works department. On September 25th, he had his Nissen surgery (which was only needed for transplant), and when we returned home after surgery, he received a letter from UVA deeming him ‘too healthy’ for transplant at this time. Not knowing what changed between July and September after already agreeing to list him, we continued. They agreed to a follow-up in January of 2025 to make a final decision on his progress to transplant. In January 2025, he was once again deemed ‘too healthy’ for transplant.

I use “too healthy” sarcastically for a reason. His reasoning for transplant is quality of life vs. quantity of life. He would rather have 5 good years (average for lung transplant patients) than 5 years tied to an oxygen tank in a backpack. The doctors at UVA advised him that they couldn’t guarantee 5 good years, but with his current lung conditions, he had 5 years easy on supplemental oxygen. So, in January 2025, UVA closed his case and said, “When you get worse, have your pulmonologist send a referral again.”

Since January, I have watched my father slowly go from a man who could tinker outside all day with a backpack of oxygen to a man who can’t walk 50 steps without getting completely out of breath.

In March 2025, he had an episode where he got dizzy, his arm went numb, and he couldn’t catch his breath. They tossed around the possibility of a stroke, but really it was the deprivation of oxygen to his brain that caused a small vessel occlusion. He was hospitalized but recovered with no adverse reactions.

On May 23rd, 2025, he had another episode, which was even worse. He was again hospitalized after arguing with Sentara Health to do something. They wanted to send him home because, quote, ‘he has oxygen at home, that’s all we’re going to do for him anyway, insurance won’t cover his stay.’ They sent him home the following day. Once home, he still didn’t feel right, but like I said, he’s not one to sit around. He was running his daily errands the following day and couldn’t catch his breath and felt ‘down.’ Once home, we checked his temperature, and he was at 102.4. After calling his doctor’s office, they advised going back to Sentara Hospital as they could run more tests there than in the doctor’s office. Back at Sentara, they did a chest X-ray and found pneumonia in the right lung. They gave him a round of IV antibiotics, kept him overnight, and sent him home the following day with a 4-day round of antibiotics and a steroid.

On May 31st, 2025, he still felt run down, didn’t feel any better, so off to VCU Health he went. They admitted him, gave multiple rounds of IV antibiotics, and kept him for a few days. While he seemed to be getting better, the X-rays of the pneumonia were not showing any significant changes. He was released with plans to follow up with his primary pulmonologist. His pulmonologist prescribed a nebulizer treatment on top of oral antibiotics and told us to bump his oxygen from 2L to 3L to help with the shortness of breath.

On June 8th, 2025, my dad had an episode of complete confusion (which could be a severe side effect of the antibiotic, but we were unsure), so we contacted VCU Health again, and they advised bringing him back in. Back at VCU, they found that the pneumonia was not getting better but getting worse. He continued to decline; he was desatting to the mid-70s, had a fever, and they claimed him septic. He was admitted. During the admission, they did a bronchoscopy to check for fungal and bacterial pathogens in his lungs because they could not find what was causing the pneumonia. He was still getting worse; his lab work was off the charts, and he was declining. They agreed to another bronchoscopy, this time with cryptology to biopsy parts of the right lung. The procedure went well, but after extubating and while in recovery, he suffered a pneumothorax, and the middle and lower lobe collapsed. They inserted a chest tube. While my dad cries during appropriate times, like wedding days for each daughter, births of grandchildren, etc., my dad isn’t an overly emotional man. Following that situation, my father looked at me and my sister, with tears in his eyes, and said, “I thought I was dying, and I have so much to live for. I want to see my grandbabies grow up.”

The pulmonologist at VCU advised it was time to contact UVA to see about that transplant because, in her words, “this will not get better until we take this lung out.” As of today, June 26th, 2025, he is still admitted at VCU with a chest tube to see if UVA will accept him or if he will now be deemed ‘too unhealthy’ for transplant.

My dad is one of my favorite people, not just because he is my dad. He is a hard-working, hilarious, and loving human being. Countless times throughout my life, I’ve had friends tell me how much they loved my father. I have people I went to middle school with that can still remember when my dad showed up on the scene of their car accident or to their houses for medical emergencies and how much he helped them. If there was ever a person that deserved good karma, it would be my father.

Thank you for taking the time to read this over. If you can donate, we would appreciate it, or if you cannot, please share it.