Last Wednesday, I got the call every transplant patient waits for. A liver was available. Surgery was set for 4:00 AM Thursday.

It was moved. Then moved again. A third time.

At 9:00 AM, they told me the liver wasn't viable.

I won't pretend that didn't hit hard. But I've learned something after 13 hospital stays — you find the silver lining or it finds you. That day, the lesson was patience. I'm still here. I'm still on the list. And I'm not done.

My name is Wayne Baca. Two years ago I was told my liver was failing — and failing fast. The diagnosis was advanced cirrhosis, complicated by gallbladder disease. I've been clean and sober for over 31 years, so this wasn't a path I saw coming. But here we are.

Just as I was added to the transplant list, necrotizing fasciitis forced emergency surgery that removed the entire inner tissue of my right thigh. That set my transplant eligibility back three months. I healed. I got back on the list. I kept moving.

What doesn't get talked about enough is what this does financially. I've worked hard my entire career in business, built a life, raised kids, and watched grandkids come into this world. My retirement savings are gone. The medical bills, copays, and day-to-day costs of living while unable to work have taken everything.

I'm not asking for a handout. I'm asking for a bridge — something to keep me standing while I wait for the surgery that will let me keep fighting.

If you can give, I am genuinely grateful. If you can share this, that means just as much. Every bit of support keeps me in the fight.

I'm still here. And I intend to stay that way.

— Wayne Baca