Help Whistleblower with Terminal Illness Meet 1st Grandchild

I’m sharing this for a family member who would never ask for help unless she absolutely had to — and unfortunately, now she does. She’s facing a rare terminal illness and was let go from a job she loved after speaking up about serious wrongdoing. She’s private by nature, but I can vouch for her strength, grit, and ability to stay grounded even when life gives her lemons. I hope you’ll consider sharing or supporting so that together, we can make some lemonade out of a tough situation.

Her story in her own words:

Life has a way of humbling even the most determined. For me, it was a terminal diagnosis and losing my job for refusing to stay silent.

While managing a local chapter of a major nonprofit, I uncovered a long-term embezzlement scheme involving hundreds of thousands of dollars—money donated and meant for the most vulnerable. I understood the risks of coming forward, but I had to do what I believed was right. When internal efforts to address it failed, I went to the authorities. That decision was met with retaliation: I was wrongfully terminated and pressured to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Because I live in a small, close-knit community, I’m keeping this campaign anonymous to protect myself, others, and an organization I once cared a great deal about.

Just prior to that, I’d spent years battling worsening pain which led to a diagnosis of Retroperitoneal Fibrosis, a rare, incurable condition. Due to other health issues, treatment is not an option for me.

As my health declines, I can no longer hold steady employment. When I'm able, I do gig work—but it’s not enough to live on. I’ve applied for Social Security Disability Insurance, but as many know, it takes time. I also hope to volunteer with a local hospice to stay connected, give back, and hold on to a sense of purpose.

On a brighter note, my first grandbaby is on the way! My daughter and son-in-law live out of state, and one of my biggest hopes is to visit and meet the baby while I still can.

I’ve always been fiercely independent, hardworking, and maybe a little too proud. Asking for help for myself has never been easy, but now I simply can’t do it on my own. I don’t really have family with the means to offer much support, and it might even be easier to ask strangers. Letting go of that pride is part of what this illness has taught me. I’m now reaching out to help cover basic living expenses while I fight through the disability process, and, if possible, travel to make a memory or two with that grandbaby.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. This journey—facing illness and injustice—has been hard, but knowing there are people who care truly gives me hope. Whether you're able to donate or simply share this page, your support means more than I can say.

Thank you for offering a “hand up” when it is needed most,

Still Standing in Wisconsin