The past few years have tested us deeply. Rising costs outstripped my disability income and Jackie’s earnings combined. For those unfamiliar, my disability program deducted half of Jackie’s income—and any earnings from our adult children—beyond $200 from my benefits. Until recently, every dollar I earned past $200 cut my payment too, though it later shifted to $0.75 per dollar after $1,000 as I tried re-entering the workforce. Some months, my income dropped below $800—or to nothing. We couldn’t always afford groceries, so we turned to credit cards, a choice Dave Ramsey would deplore.

In 2022, my health unraveled. A 2.3cm gallstone, plus smaller ones, lodged in my bile duct, requiring emergency surgery. My body, a long-time enigma, didn’t recover easily. What should’ve been weeks stretched into over a month, leaving lingering side effects. That September, I started a job with a charity I still cherish. We began chipping away at debt and even saved for a modest 20th anniversary trip in 2023. But by Christmas 2023, I had to leave that role for various reasons.

Disability payments dwindled as expenses soared. Despite my experience, work eluded me, and debt climbed again. I took an unpaid five-month training course with a local casino—the only place to call me back—hoping for a job. In summer 2023, Caesars hired me part-time as a table dealer. Tips promised relief, but my body rebelled. Within a week, a kidney stone demanded emergency surgery, and my damaged spine couldn’t handle the standing. My doctor ordered me to stop.

I stayed optimistic—I’d just applied for another job and was hired. Then the Province dropped a bombshell: due to an error by the disability office, we owed $18,000 in overpayments. They admitted fault but are clawing it back through our tax returns and credits. We reported Jackie’s self-employment income correctly, yet they’re unrelenting. With the government against us, garnishment looms, deepening our financial hole.

This brings us to now. Since September 2024, eating has become torment. Every bite, no matter the food, brings searing pain. I’m down to toddler-sized snacks daily, then chest pain struck. Tests ruled out cardiac issues, but answers remain elusive. I pushed through, missing work as debts ballooned. We’d inherited our home mortgage-free when Jackie’s dad passed, or so we thought. Low interest rates tempted us to refinance, consolidate debt, and breathe easier. But the mortgage, arranged by her dad and a lawyer, was still registered. Removing it should’ve been simple. Our lawyer prepared paperwork by September 2024, but has not sent it to Jackie’s mom’s lawyer in Manitoba — while demanding $600 for nothing—leaving us stuck as of March 2025.

By October 2024, swallowing grew difficult. An ER visit led to a gastroscopy and esophageal dilation, briefly easing things. By mid-December, even liquids choked me. After two days of fighting, I returned to the ER, admitted for five days of tests and another dilation. I went home able to swallow, awaiting specialized tests in London. As of March 12, 2025, I’ve heard nothing. My doctor cut my work to 24 hours a week, tightening the noose.

On March 1st, swallowing failed again. A six-day hospital stay—my longest—followed, in a makeshift ward due to overcrowding. A third dilation barely helped. Tests revealed gastroparesis, explaining the stomach pain, but the swallowing issue persists. I manage soft foods with tiny bites, medications with applesauce, and new pills that worked via IV in the hospital—but not orally. Every bite, every sip, even water, is agony.

I know this is a lot to take in (pun intended). Bankruptcy risks our home, unprotected here. The lawyer’s delays block refinancing, and our credit score tanks—jeopardizing future jobs. We scrapped our van for $700 to cover groceries, a payment, and help our eldest, now on her own. Our cat, Abagail, needs a $2,000 ear surgery we can’t afford, despite her insurance. And Jackie’s car needs at least $500 in work to correct an oil leak.

With any help, we’ll restart Financial Peace University to shed debt, fund Abby’s surgery, repair Jackie’s car, and save for a van. Thank you for considering this—and for your prayers most of all.