Today, my husband took about 12 steps with a walker.



UPDATE: I have lowered the campaign need because we have decided staying in Lexington is not the right decision for us. Please, everyone who has already helped us, please do not donate any more. Times are difficult and I know all of you need your funds. All our family and friends and their extended family and friends, thank you. Now, I believe we have raised enough to possibly make the move without any of our employer's help (because I don't think we will get any). However, we are beginning to incur medical bills as well. So, I adjusted the cap to help us take care of those as well.

Jeff is growing stronger everyday :-).

ORIGINAL CAMPAIGN:

Although he does not see it, he has come a long way from where he was February 27, 2015.

However, our story really goes back even further than that…back to about 2007, when I found out I had a brain tumor. Since that time, we have had a series of unfortunate events; losses that would be scary to calculate. We are a couple that has fallen on very hard times losing our ability to generate household revenue due to the disappearance of our industries. Last March (2014), I lost my last public relations client. We had a severe loss of income for several months. I had tried for years to find employment in California with no success. In June, we saw an ad for a management team at an Independent Retirement community. The listings were within commuting distance from family. They were interested, but only for a job in Kentucky. Desperate, we took it.

After working here for six months, Jeff came down with the Norovirus in the community. The night of the 27th, I sent my husband to the hospital alone in an ambulance. I had to stay behind because we had the night shift in case of emergency calls from residents. He had severe abdominal pain. Last thing I remember was him looking at me through the glass doors as if he couldn’t understand why I wasn’t going with him.

By noon the next day, our mentors from another community came to relieve me. I arrived at the hospital and was greeted by a surgeon and the chaplain. I was informed that Jeff’s condition was critical and that the surgeon had to do emergency surgery to find out what was going on inside. He pulled out two fist-sized blood clots and said he had been bleeding internally, but that he couldn’t find the source. When Jeff didn’t improve, they did an MRI with contrast and discovered that he was bleeding internally from a blood vessel behind his pancreas. This was an area they could not reach with surgery. So, they had a specialist try to go through a blood vessel to reach the holes. They failed. Then, the doctor said there was one more shot, a radiologist. He succeeded in reaching one hole, but it was believed to be the largest. The others, Jeff’s body would have to heal on its own. He was on life support and in a coma for nearly a month. Today, he is slowly improving, but we have no timeline on when he can get out of the hospital, and then rehab.

I have been on leave, at his side nearly every day. The only exceptions were when we had 12 inches of snow and I could not get out, and when I was sick. Ready to go back to work (because we used up all of our vacation and sick pay), I informed my regional director I could start on the 13th of April. As managers, we are required to live in the community. The apartment is part of that compensation. I was told that I could not have my previous job because they didn’t want me to manage as a single manager. They gave me two options: 1. Move to Paducah (four hours away from my husband) or 2. Become a floating manager. As a floating manager, I do not get an apartment or any of the other compensatory benefits of their low-paying job. Either way you look at it, I have to move.

We’re stuck in Kentucky. While Kentucky and her people are wonderful, they are not our family. At this time in my husband’s life, we need to be around supportive family. Jeff cannot travel yet and I don’t know when he will be able to. I cannot stay in the community. I am the only person he has here; I don’t want to move four hours away from him. And, the floating manager has no guarantee of hours. I can rent something for around $700-$900 on a month-to-month basis, possibly. I might have to sign a lease. Then, there are the moving costs. I have no income and Jeff is getting 60% of his meager income in short-term disability. I don’t know how I can fund a move, pack myself up and move myself. Then, there is no guarantee of income, don’t know if I will be able to meet all of our expenses. And then, there is getting us home to California when he can travel. My friend told me about this site and suggested I tell our story. So, here it is. I cannot believe all the bad luck we have had over the last 7 to 8 years. Just when I think it cannot get any worse, it does. Jeff is very disheartened, discouraged, and depressed about his condition. And, he still doesn’t remember his whole story. We have no idea what kind of residual affects he will have.

I am not one to ask for help. I learned long ago from my grandmother that I should never ask for help. But, torn between helping my husband by remaining in Lexington so he doesn’t become more depressed and leaving him behind as I move myself to Paducah, I figured I share our story and hope for the best.

Today, I rescued a duck. A friend said, “You are a wonderful person and you will be taken care of.” I can only hope a little luck turns in our favor for a change. Thank you for listening and considering our story.

Please consider leaving us your mailing address so that we may send you a personal thank you and update :-).