Kayla, my wife, is facing a series of overwhelming medical challenges that have turned our lives upside down. Since last fall, she has been severely ill with gastrointestinal issues, enduring constant vomiting and pain. She’s already had an endoscopy and biopsy, and now needs another extended endoscopy with multiple biopsies to determine if she has Crohn’s disease or inflammatory bowel disease. Doctors are also checking for pre-cancerous cells. Alongside this, she’s had a gastric CT, countless blood tests, and is battling worsening seizures that remain undiagnosed because insurance is refusing to cover a specialty center. On top of all this, Kayla will soon undergo right ankle fusion surgery, which will permanently limit her mobility. She’ll be in a cast for six weeks and require extensive physical therapy. She’s lost feeling in most of her left leg and foot due to collapsed and herniated discs in her back, and we’ve been fighting insurance for an epidural since August. We’re also waiting on test results for multiple autoimmune disorders to try to understand her extreme fatigue, sleep issues, skin conditions, dizziness, and more. She faces daily battles with tinnitus, hearing loss, and a range of mental and physical health issues. Despite all of this, Kayla remains the strongest person I know. She runs her own business, cares for me and our furbabies, mentors co-workers, volunteers, and rarely complains. She’s fiercely independent, has survived extreme trauma, and never gives up. Her laugh, mind, and spirit are beautiful, and she amazes me every day. Even with insurance—which we lose at the end of June—the co-pays and down payments are extreme. We have to travel for specialists, and Kayla will need to take time off work, which means no income since she’s self-employed. We don’t know what will happen when we lose insurance. She’ll need medical equipment, medications, and many follow-up appointments out of town. Depending on her diagnoses, she may need extra procedures and expensive long-term treatments. Kayla has always put others first. She cared for her parents until the very end, supports friends and strangers alike, and donates her time and resources to any cause that needs her. She’s my cheerleader, the love of my life, and my puzzle piece. All I want is to make her better, but I can’t do it alone. I’m asking for help—any support, no matter how small, would mean the world to us and help give Kayla the care she deserves.