Support Jen's efforts to rebuild post-ALS

For those who don't know me or the circumstances that led to this GFM, during the first few months of 2021—peak Covid—I married my partner of five years in January, and then he was diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS; a.k.a. Lou Gehrig’s disease) in May. ALS is a cruel disease for which there is yet no cure and the inspiration for the ice-bucket challenge.

People living with ALS lose their ability to move, eat, speak, and breathe over a period of months or years. Disease progression is unpredictable and extremely heterogenous; there's no way of knowing the speed or sequence of decline. Every few months, he continued to lose more function and mobility and rely more and more on me.

Being a business owner and self-employed was a godsend throughout his illness. For the first couple of years I was able to sustain my consulting practice and find ways to continue working while his care needs increased. Unfortunately, caregiving for someone living with advanced ALS eventually becomes all-consuming. By 2024, even with out-of-pocket caregiving support I could barely take care of myself, let alone my business.

It's impossible to encapsulate the horrors and heartbreak that we endured together during his final year in a few short sentences. It was brutal. After a string of infections that led to repeated bouts of sepsis, spans of up to nine hours at his bedside operating suction and cough assist machines as he struggled to clear mucus that hampered his breathing, and debilitating anxiety that contributed to José experiencing day-long panic attacks, he opted to start home hospice on Dec. 17, 2024. In less than 48-hours he was gone.

Living with ALS was impossibly hard in all the ways you can imagine. Now that I’m on the other side of it as a widow, aside from grief and the physical and psychological toll that caring for someone living with ALS took on my body and psyche, the biggest lingering impact is financial. We cashed out every bit of our savings, retirement, life insurance—anything we had went to José’s care and comfort. AND we leaned heavily on additional support from others during that time.

Less than nine months from José’s passing, I'm back to nearly stable work. While there's still much to do to get my business back to where it once was, the truth is that it's already back to *just* enough to cover my basic needs. And I'm incredibly proud of that accomplishment. It has taken monumental discipline and grit.

That said, between a few unexpected expenses in the aftermath of losing José and the difficult start to the year, there is a small deficit that remains.

So I've been hustling my hiney to close that gap through my work. And it's paying off. But I'm beyond tired and if I can't catch-up in the next few weeks things could get bleak. So as uncomfortable as this is, and at the encouragement of others, I'm asking for help.

I will still be working to get myself fully booked for the remainder of 2025. In fact, if you could benefit from a bit of thought partnership, coaching, or consulting support, let's chat. And if you don't need my services but would like to sponsor an entrepreneurial woman for whom my fees are out of reach, you can do that here. Throughout this year, I have continued to extend services to women whom I could help regardless of their ability to pay.

If you’ve read this far, immense thanks. It’s humbling to be in a position of feeling that you’ve abandoned your people other than to lean on them and constantly be asking for help for so long. I’m eager to be able to reciprocate and pay forward all the generosity and aloha that has been shared with us.

in gratitude,

Jen