My name is Todd Laughlin, and I am asking for help at the hardest moment of my life.

In September of 2023, my life changed forever when I was diagnosed with Stage 3 colon cancer. I underwent major surgery that left me with a permanent colostomy, followed by six months of chemotherapy. During that time, I was unable to work and survived only on long-term disability. Even with insurance, the combination of medical bills and everyday expenses completely drained my savings.

In March of 2024, I was told I was cancer-free—but the fight left lasting damage. Chemotherapy caused permanent peripheral neuropathy, leaving my feet mostly numb and my hands partially affected.

Just months later, in November of 2024, I received devastating news: I was diagnosed with Stage 4 oropharyngeal cancer. On the very day I was told my cancer had returned—this time incurable—my truck broke down at the hospital and had to be towed home. It felt like everything was collapsing at once.

My doctors were honest with me. Without treatment, I have about six months to live. With treatment, I may have up to two years. I chose to fight for that time.

The tumor has affected my face, jaw, tongue, ear, and throat. Eating is painful and difficult. Talking is becoming harder every day. My job required me to speak on the phone all day, and as my voice weakened, I was forced onto medical leave. Eventually, my employer had to let me go because I couldn’t provide a return date. I am not expected to be well enough to work again.

I am now on SSDI, which does not come close to covering my mortgage, utilities, medical costs, and basic living expenses. To make matters worse, my insurance deductible reset in January of 2025, and later that year I lost employer-sponsored health coverage entirely because I could no longer meet work-hour requirements.

I am receiving palliative radiation and immunotherapy (Keytruda), treatments meant not to cure, but to give me more time and better quality of life. So far, the tumor has shrunk significantly, and for that I am deeply grateful. But I don’t know how long this treatment will continue to work.

I am a United States Marine Corps veteran from the Reagan era, yet I do not qualify for VA benefits. I never imagined I would be in this position—facing terminal cancer, unable to work, and struggling just to keep my home while fighting for more time.

I am asking for help to cover:

Medical bills and treatment costs

Colostomy supplies and medical necessities

Monthly living expenses

My mortgage, so I don’t lose my home while I’m still here

If you are able to donate, share, or simply keep me in your thoughts, it would mean more than I can express. Your support gives me dignity, stability, and precious time.

Thank you for reading my story, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for any help you can give.