Why does pride get in the way of asking for help? Is it because I know how many people have it worse off than I do, or because society has told me that I should be ashamed to ask? Regardless of the answer, for me, I feel like I was never even allowed to ask the question. But, today that changes. After all, what could it hurt?!

My name is Courtney Gail Crowe-Mercer. I am a teacher who loves all of my students like they are my own. I am a wife to a devoted husband who loves me harder than I have ever been loved before. Over the last 24 years, I have been diagnosed with chronic kidney stones, severe peripheral neuropathy, severe inflammation from osteoarthritis, hypertension, anxiety, depression, unspecified autoimmune, cervical spondylitis, and chronic leukocytosis. That being said, I believe it was my orthopedic spinal surgeon consult that told Adam (my husband) that it looks like I won the genetic lottery.

I have been an educator here in Texas for 17+ years, working in youth ministry and public education. My husband is in commercial roofing. We make a decent combined income, and we do not live outside our means. Just when we think we have a leg up, it’s not long until it’s two steps back. Once the first semester is over, I rarely have any sick days left, and for us teachers, that amounts to docked pay. Last January, when I spent the month in the hospital and on bed rest, not only was there a $5,000 loss of my income, but my portion of the medical bills ended up being close to 12K. And yes, that’s WITH insurance!!! I honestly don’t know how we managed, but then again, I know that God provided for us every step of the way.

Aside from the pain I deal with on a daily basis, my immune system seems to be attacking my lungs. This past year I was diagnosed with hypersensitivity pneumonitis. It landed me in the ER for 8 hours on Sunday after pushing through these last two weeks at school. My ER doctor was very thorough and took the time to study my medical history. After a few IV meds, fluid, and the longest breathing treatment of my life, he cautiously sent me home with 6 prescriptions and a lot of instructions. 4 daily breathing treatments for the sum of 1.5hrs, for the next 60 days… With 2 days until Christmas, I’m so grateful that I will not have to spend it in a hospital bed.

Chronic Illness. This is my normal. This is me, expressing a great need that only continues to grow year after year… Healthcare is not affordable. When it comes to my medical debt - realistically, there is no light at the end of the tunnel. I’m a teacher, who will keep on teaching until I cannot teach any longer. If you feel led to give a gift, any amount is gratefully appreciated. Every bit of weight that can be taken off my back brings me closer to the hope that maybe one day, I’ll see the tiny glimmer of what might lead me out of the tunnel of the debt of darkness.