Let me tell you about my friend Donna. She’s the one that takes time to come over to your house to make sure that everything’s okay when you’ve gone off radar. She’s the one who volunteers to teach a class to share what she’s learned in the writing and editing realm because she wants everyone to succeed in their dreams. She’s the one who has tears in her eyes when thinking about how one of her clients found their perfect home.

Dependable, efficient, heartful and empathetic, hard-working.

Then, at age forty-nine she disappeared.

For over a year Donna had queried friends on why she felt so oddly tired sometimes. Increasingly so. Halfway through the morning she’d need to rest. Something wasn’t right. She consulted doctors. It was getting worse. She started having to cancel long-anticipated meet-ups with friends. Finally, a diagnosis: Myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS).

The reason for her problem was found, but that was only the beginning of a horrible descent.

Within two weeks her movements were severely restricted because of the overwhelming exhaustion she’d experience following the smallest activity. After another ten days or so, she was completely bedridden – literally unable to even sit up by herself. She couldn’t even have a short conversation with her husband; a few words spun her into an acute pit.

Sleep doesn’t help. She can’t feed herself. She’s had to be put on medication for anxiety and panic attacks.

In mid-March, her artist husband, Kevin, wrote: “Donna feels if she can have at least 2 to 3 weeks of not exerting herself, she will start to improve.”

All her friends and family want this SO MUCH to happen. But it hasn’t yet.

I think back over the last time several of us saw her – it was sharing all the quilt tops she’d made. The last text she sent, having to cancel a get-together “just until next week”; we were excited about sharing notes and plans about our gardens for this year.

So we all keep hoping. We hope by resting, by doing absolutely nothing for 24 hours of every day, day-in and day-out, these extremely severe symptoms will abate. The mother who moved into their house so that Donna could help care for her is now helping take care of Donna, who can do nothing at all for herself.

We’re asking if you can help.

Spiritually, of course – but also practically. Donna’s income was an important part of the equation that kept their family going, and that’s missing. We hope not for long, but this is a cruel illness. There is no medicine or treatment that can put you on the road to recovery. It’s just rest, rest, rest. And hope the body can fight back.

So during this time, we’re asking if you can pitch in to help with some of the medical expenses that aren’t covered by their insurance, and to help cover some of their living expenses, now that Donna’s income is no longer there, and won’t be for a while.

There are so many unknowns, including what amount we should target in this GoFundMe. But if you can do this concrete thing, know that it will help.

We (Cheryl and Gretchen) will keep you updated as best we can – through checking in with Kevin (Donna’s husband) - since visiting is out of the picture. She’s in a dark room. Any stimulation has a negative effect. Any brief conversation is exhausting.

Thank you. You are greatly appreciated.