The last chance to save our home from foreclosure by Wells Fargo
Save Our Home
Thank you for coming to our page and giving me this chance to tell you about my family. Here, I’m going to get right to the point. A bit further down, you’ll find the whole story.
That little log house up there in the banner? That’s our home. My dad–and his dad–built this house in 1979. I grew up here from age 3 until age 14 when it was sold in my parents’ divorce. My wife and I bought it back again in 2005 and were married here in 2006. See the little cat houses on the porch? Those are for the feral colony that lives here. My family has managed and cared for them since the house was built. This home has always been a rescue operation. New strays show up here every year as they get abandoned in the nearby wildlife refuge.
In 2016 I lost my job because of a major, disabling medical event and I’ve been unable to find any work since. We’ve run out of backup plans. We need $215,000 to pay off our home and keep it away from Wells Fargo forever. We’re trying to raise it $5 at a time. Can you spare $5?
It’s an aggressive goal. It’s a ridiculous goal. It’s an absurd amount to try to fundraise with few friends, little social network, and no skills as a fund raiser.
It’s the long shot of long shots, but this is what it’s going to take. We’ve tried everything else. We’re trying to raise this life-saving amount in $5 donations from 43,000 people and we’re off to a good start.
We need 39,463 more people to donate $5 as of October 11th. Have you got $5? Do you want to save a family’s life?
I’ve been staring at this page now for two days. At first I promised to have it updated and live by Monday. It’s Wednesday morning afternoon now and I don’t think it will be today, either. I’ve told this story so many times over the past two years, but sitting here, trying to collect it into writing, I’m at a loss. I need your help to save my family. I’ve been at this for two years and four months and I can’t solve it by myself. If we lose this home, that my father built in 1979, we have nowhere else to go. Rents are HIGHER than our mortgage. A family of four with two chronically ill people can’t be supported on my wife’s nursing salary alone. We’ve been trying. She’s been carrying all of us, but it’s all about to break.
Four years ago, I suffered three grand mal seizures when my epilepsy, which had mostly been in remission for 23 years, suddenly resurfaced. It was early on a Saturday morning, and luckily my wife, a registered nurse, wasn’t at work that day. My spine was fractured in multiple places in my lower back, and I seem to have suffered a traumatic brain injury affecting my memory and concentration. It could have been much worse. My lungs were filled with blood and the paramedics had to give me an injection when I started seizing a fourth time in the ambulance.
With medication, the seizures have gotten much less severe, but I still have small ones every month or so. It took a few years for my condition to become this stable, and before then it was very disruptive to my work as an IT data analyst for a major hospital system. I eventually lost my job.
I’ve been without an income for two years and four months. I’ve applied to 8,000 jobs. That’s not an exaggeration for effect, that’s the rough number. Twenty-eight months averaging thirty days each with an average of ten job applications per day brings you to eight thousand, four hundred job applications. I know there have been days where my motivation has waned, and so 8,000 is about right. I apply to jobs all across the country and sometimes, outside of it.
I’ve been on 68 job interviews. That number I know for sure. That’s the number I’ve counted every day since May 2016. I’ve had zero job offers. That one is also for certain. Because of my memory and focus issues, some interviews go better than others. Most, however, believe it or not, have gone well. I simply wasn’t offered the job.
I work on art commissions in my small studio, and if you like you can often catch me live-streaming my work on Twitch. I do costuming and prop work for cosplayers who dress up as Star Wars characters for charity, among other things. It’s a small supplement to my wife’s nursing salary, but it’s not enough to keep ahead of the bank.
We’ve cashed out our pensions, we’ve spent our savings. Starting late last year we ran a GoFundMe asking people to help cover our mortgage for one more year so that I could have enough time to definitely find a job. Like, another entire year, there’s no way it would take longer than that, right? Well our year is up (minus the arrears we had to pay of about 3 months), and there’s still no job, and it’s looking very likely that I’m never going to be hired by anyone again.
Being chronically ill in the United States is difficult even when things are going well, and that’s as much to do with the cost of healthcare here as with the illness itself. I’ve suffered from Crohn’s Disease for my entire life. I’ve had epilepsy for most of it. My oldest daughter also has Crohn’s as well as a blood clotting disorder known as ITP, which is an unfortunate combination. Medications, treatments, doctor visits, are all expensive. In fact a very likely reason for my seizures in 2014 is that I had been going without my Crohn’s medication for years due to the cost at the time, which was $1,200/month.
People think of Crohn’s as only affecting the gut. In reality, while it’s focused primarily in the gut it actually causes systemic inflammation, especially when not treated. I spent several years not treating a potentially fatal disease because I couldn’t do that and support my family at the same time. We just didn’t have enough to do both. My untreated Crohn’s caused chaos in my body. Gut problems, but also joint problems, anemia, and severe dehydration, a trigger for my seizures.
My oldest daughter’s Crohn’s was difficult to treat and refractive to most medications. We eventually sought highly specialized care at Children’s Hospital Boston. It meant an expensive commute, more time off from work, and fights with our insurance company. Some of the tests she needed to monitor her medications were considered “experimental” and not covered. One particular bloodtest cost $460-750 each time it was drawn, every few months.
The day that my youngest daughter Izzy was born, my oldest, Sarah, was in the isolation ward of another hospital many miles away. My wife stayed with our new baby and recuperated. I drove back and forth between the two hospitals and hardly slept. They thought Sarah might have an infectious disease, but in the end it turned out to be a rare reaction to an infusion medication they were trialing her on. Her hair fell out in patches and her body was covered in sores. Her hips and knees locked up and she had difficulty walking. She had been on the infusion medication because a few months before she had nearly bled to death, requiring multiple transfusions. Sarah still has sporadic “arthritis” from her medication reaction to this day, 9 years later. Sarah is 20 now and going to college for social work.
Izzy was badly jaundiced at birth and the community hospital she was born in did not take her jaundice seriously. The concentration of bilirubin in her blood got so high that it crossed into her spinal fluid where it may have done neurological damage. She spent two weeks in the NICU after she became unresponsive on her third day home from her birth hospital. We’ve never gotten a straight answer on it from any doctor. She was later diagnosed with autism at age 3, but has no measurable symptoms of autism today. Likely, she suffered a brain injury from her jaundice but the hospital would not admit it. We paid for speech therapy, occupational therapy, specialist visits, and all of the associated logistics including travel, lost time at work, and so on. She was tested for everything, including hearing loss, because of her reduced interaction with people around her.
Izzy is 9 today, and seems mostly neurotypical, with perhaps a quirk or two. Also very friendly, extremely bright, and full of energy. She helps us get through this every day.
There’s more, including the cardiac arrests that preceded my seizures, also likely related to untreated Crohn’s, but I feel like this is just too much to expect anyone to read. All of these hardships depleted our savings, then ran up our credit cards. We were very badly prepared for me to then take ill, nearly lose my life, and lose my employment.
I need these girls to be OK. I don’t know how to make sure that they will be. If I have one more grand mal seizure like I had in 2014, there’s a very good chance I won’t survive it. The physical damage they did is still with me. I’m only 41 years old. I sometimes walk with a cane now. I can’t lift anything heavier than twenty five or so pounds. I feel fragile compared to how I did before the seizures. I still have very small “focal” or “petit mal” seizures from time to time, and there’s no way to be sure that another big one isn’t on the horizon. I continue to look for work, both through job applications and through my art studio, but I worry about what will happen if one day I’m not here. My wife Chris can’t do this by herself.
We got our “one more year” on GoFundMe this year, but employment never came. My most recent job interview was six days before this writing. Friends have sent me job listings, offered referrals, and helped pay for groceries at times.
We have no equity in our home. We were nearly foreclosed last year but got a modification with help from my wife’s family. Sadly, that was only borrowing time. If we lose this home, we have nowhere to go. Rents are more expensive than our mortgage payment, not less.
My wife and I are introverts. We haven’t got many friends. We’re not involved in a church community. I’m estranged from most of my family, and hers can only help so much. We have no support network that can help us with a problem this big. We need people we can reach online, who don’t know us, but care enough to help us anyway. Are you one?
The only thing I have left is to ask all of you for help. We need 43,000 donations of $5 each to pay off this home and make sure that my girls will always have a place to live, that our colony cats will always have their caretakers, and that Wells Fargo can’t take this from us. Can you spare $5 for the chance that my girls might be safe? Can you share this with others who might?
Hello everybody! Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays! I’m always late with these because I always struggle with what to say to all of you who have kept my family alive this past year. It always seems like too little, too corny, too ineloquent, but here I am trying anyway and I’m sorry I’m late again. …
Hey everybody! My last update was a little while ago, and have I got a lot to tell you all. We’ve still got a long way to go to reach our goal, but the last few days… I need to tell you all about the last few days! I also want to talk about the …
Hi everybody. The fundraiser to save our home is going pretty well for still being so young! We’ve raised $3,390, or the equivalent of 678 donations of $5 each. That leaves 42,322 left to go! This fundraiser will rely on growing as it spreads, if it’s going to succeed. I’ve had a lot of help in the …
There are several ways that you can contribute to our fundraiser and help us save our home. Every single contribution helps. Every share helps.
Click here to donate via PlumFund – this is the primary fundraiser and your contribution will be automatically added to the total. The total listed on this page is what we’ve raised so far!
Click here to donate via Paypal – this is a link to the Paypal account for my art studio, Cadence Terminus Studios. Please indicate that you’re making a donation and I’ll add it to the total on PlumFund. You can also send money directly without fees using “Friends and Family” (from the US) on Paypal using my email address: email@example.com
Click here to donate via CashApp – this is a link to the CashApp for my art studio under the name “ChewbaccaCT”. Many of the commissions I work on are for Chewbacca masks. 😊 Please indicate that you’re making a donation and I’ll add it to the total on Plumfund. This option has no fees!
You can also donate via Venmo by sending money to @WookieeMark (that’s me!). Like CashApp, there are no fees with this donation option and your full donation goes to helping us save our home!
You can also mail contributions and well wishes to us directly. Our mailing address is:
Save Our Home
c/o Mark Warner
31 Eisenhower Dr.
Plainville, CT 06062
(You can also use Google Maps to see the house!)
Thank you for considering a donation to help us save our home!!