The Post I Never Wanted to Make

We made the decision to admit Cassidy into an intensive rehabilitation program because we believed it was the next right step. 10 to 14 days of focused physical, occupational, and speech therapy, to rebuild strength and give his body a fighting chance.

Insurance approved 5…we found out on day 4, which meant we had almost no time to figure out what came next.

Cassidy isn’t improving the way we hoped. His labs aren’t ideal and the tumor markers drawn right before his first chemo in Denver are nearly 5 times higher than they were when he began treatment in April….that number sits heavy in my chest.

Hard decisions are ahead, I can’t pretend they aren’t. But we are not done fighting. As long as his body allows, we will try another round of chemo, we’ll monitor markers, check labs every other day, and keep moving forward for as long as there is forward to move.

But here is the part no one prepares you for. Insurance is a heartless fucking beast.

The care they are willing to cover is minimal. It’s technical, bare bones. It doesn’t account for the reality of what it takes to care for someone who cannot walk, dress himself, needs help with every intimate and physical part of daily life.

And I cannot keep doing this alone. We have looked at every option. The only solution that seems viable is private pay home health to supplement the gaps in coverage.

But, we cannot afford it.

Cassidy isn’t working which means he’s not bringing in income. We lived comfortably before — but comfortably on 2 salaries. That reality has changed overnight. Medical bills are stacking, specialized care costs more than I ever imagined, and now we’re facing paying out of pocket for the help that would allow him to be cared for safely at home.

There is a part of me that resents this deeply. People should not have to fundraise for basic care. People fighting cancer or any other illness shouldn’t have to calculate the cost of help against survival. But here we are.

And my pride doesn’t matter more than his care. So I am asking. If you have been wondering how to help — this is it.

We need financial support to secure private home health so Cassidy can receive the level of care he deserves., so I can be his wife again, not just his full-time physical support system. So my body doesn’t give out while trying to hold his up.

This is not easy to say, but neither is changing the person you love’s diaper, lifting his full weight when your back is already on fire or watching tumor markers climb and pretending you’re not terrified.

We are surrounded by people who have stepped into this fight with us in ways I will never forget.

Kate and Mo have been absolutely instrumental — navigating insurance phone calls that make you want to scream, researching private pay home health options, helping transport Cassidy, advocating when my brain is too tired to think clearly. They don’t just show up — they stay.

Amanda has stepped in during the smallest and biggest moments — replacing stale Panera sandwiches when I didn’t even realize I hadn’t eaten properly, helping untangle impossible insurance conversations, sitting with me through decisions that feel too heavy to carry alone.

Chelsea… I don’t have words big enough. She has sat in hospital rooms, had the hardest conversations with me when I didn’t want to hear them, and cared for Cassidy like he is her own family. She takes care of him. She takes care of me. She reminds me to breathe.

These women are the reason I am upright. But even the strongest community cannot cover the financial reality of this alone.

We are not done fighting. We are choosing chemo again. We are choosing hope again. We are choosing treatment again and we need help.

If you are able to donate — any amount — it will go directly toward private home health care and the medical expenses that insurance refuses to carry. If you cannot donate, sharing this means more than you know.

Click here to donate via Venmo or GoFundMe.

This is the most vulnerable I have ever been publicly. But loving him is bigger than my discomfort and I will always choose him.