Some of you know I’ve been dealing with chronic, debilitating pain for the last 10 years.

Pain is like a vampire, but instead of blood - it feeds on joy and hope. And pain leaves you hopeless and isolated.

It began on 11 January 2013, and ironically my pain originated from an act of love.

My wife and I had been married for two years, and I'd been "insta-Papa" to my stepdaughter for that long. I have a proverbial red-headed stepchild, but as Maggie said when she was about 8 years old, "We don't let the 'step' trip us up."

After a couple of years of being a sort-of dad, I told my wife I'd like to have another child with her. She said she'd been thinking the same! So, we decided to reverse my vasectomy.

That short, simple procedure should have hurt a little bit for a few days. In my case, it was like flipping a switch: The cuts healed, but my pain remained. With the cause of my pain being a vasectomy reversal, you can guess where my pain is.

Fast forward, and over the last ten years I've had 24 (yes, twenty-four) surgeries; four, five-day inpatient ketamine treatments; a dorsal root ganglion stimulator implanted for 3 years; and much more. I’ve been to and/or seen doctors practicing at Stanford, Cleveland Clinic, Cedars Sinai, Johns Hopkins, UCSF, UC Davis, and others. Despite everyone’s best efforts, my pain slowly continues to worsen and spread.

To be clear: My preference is not surgery and pharmaceuticals. Before beginning the more traditional treatments mentioned above, I had 3 months’ worth of naturopathic IV treatments and sought help from an acupuncturist, chiropractor, herbalist, etc. Along the way I also tried every supplement or other potential cure I could find. But at some point pain hijacks your life and all else fades away….

Currently, I live between 6 and 9 on the pain scale, all day every day, and mostly at 7/8. The last few procedures I've had have worsened my pain, which I now know is "normal" for the condition I have. "Complex Regional Pain Syndrome" (CRPS), is also known as "The Suicide Disease" because it is generally considered incurable and untreatable. Medically speaking, it is said to be the most painful disease known to man – rating higher than childbirth and amputation on the McGill Pain Index. Many people with CRPS describe it as feeling like you are being burned alive; I agree.

My pain is easily increased by movement. Little things like bending over to pick something up off the floor, sitting up too quickly (or without arm support), sitting up in a chair like a normal person, basically anything that involves bending, lifting, twisting, engaging my core or abdominal muscles, walking upstairs or uphill, compressing my groin area (I am the constant "man-spreader" – but with an actual medical reason). The truth is that for the last several years I’ve been mostly home-bound because almost any movement will exacerbate my pain. For a decade I’ve not been able to fully enjoy my family, friends, or life. What was supposed to be an act of loving expression to create a new life, instead created a life filled with pain and limitation.

When dealing with this much pain it becomes hard to stay positive. If you spend more than 5 minutes researching CRPS online, you'll learn that it feels like your skin is on fire. And to add insult to injury, and unluckily for me, my pain is where no male wants it. But there is hope.

Despite my pain, I am blessed with the love and dedication of a wonderful woman. Without Sarah, I'm not sure where I'd be right now...and luckily, I don't need to worry about that.

Even with support from friends and family, it is difficult to be hopeful when most of the time the pain is so bad that I can't think clearly; I get nauseated, sweaty, and lightheaded; I can't work (or talk, or move); can't sit up; and can't even concentrate enough to read - one of my favorite activities.

Just as I was beginning the slide into despair, Sarah discovered The Spero Clinic, Dr. Katinka van der Merwe, and the Neurologic Recovery Program she and her team offer in Fayettville, Arkansas. I fly out on 8 January to begin this journey on the 11th. Ironically, I begin treatment with the Spero Clinic exactly 10 years to the day from when this all began with my reversal on 11 Jan 2013.

There is more information about the program on her website (https://www.thesperoclinic.com/), but the program averages 15 weeks and uses more than 15 modalities in combination over that time. The success rate is amazing (>85%), and her "Success Story" videos brought me to tears as I realized that I might have a real chance to sit at a desk, have a meal with my family that doesn't involve all of us around an "island" or cocktail table, or possibly even get back to helping make the world a better place at "full RPMs."

Of course, there's a hitch.

Insurance usually doesn’t cover these treatments and I’ll be away from home and largely unable to work for 3 or 4 months. That’s why I’m here on GoFundMe, asking for your help.

It is ironic that, as a “consultant” (that word still sounds too ‘fancy’ for me and what I do) for nonprofits, I often help good organizations get the money they need to accomplish their goals. Now I find myself here, writing to you, uncomfortably seeking your help for myself.

To avoid going into severe medical debt, we need to raise approximately $89,000 to cover these treatments, travel, food, and expenses – all in. This is based on a treatment span of 15 weeks, treatment pricing, and general projected costs (food, Uber/Lyft, sleeping quarters) based on cost estimates, distance from the clinic, etc.

No matter what happens, I WILL go, I WILL throw myself into this process, and I WILL reduce or eliminate my pain. Nothing will stop this healing.

The only question is: How much debt will my wife and I be in when I’m done?

It is my sincere hope that if you have a couple of dollars that you can spare – you might help us make it. I need this for myself, for my wife and daughter, and for the wonderful people and nonprofits, I work with.

I need my life back. I need to be a functional husband, father, and citizen again.

We appreciate any help you can provide and hope that 2023 will finally be our year of health and recovery. There is still so much good work to be done, and so many memories to make.

Dum Spiro Spero: While I have breath, I have hope.

Please share this widely and often!