A dear friend asked me how we are doing and how they could be praying for us recently. I responded the only way I could in the moment: raw honesty.

I am worn thin in my soul. I feel threadbare these days, but we are trying to hold on tightly to any little moments of good we have.

This past Friday evening was spent following Greg around the house for his safety as he stumbled about with ZERO awareness or lucidity. He was in pain and frightened and unresponsive when, out of nowhere, he suddenly focused in on my face. He began crying and stroking my cheek as he repeated, “Tatum, wife,” over and over and over again, tears streaming down his face.

He has made himself little notes around the house to remind him of who I am.

My heart is breaking. His heart and kidneys continue to decline.

Friday, too, we got ANOTHER unexpected $7,000 medical bill to add to our ever-growing pile. Every day I feel fear clutch at my heart. I feel it even now. It’s tightness in my chest and throat, the quickening of my heart, the breathlessness, the pit in my stomach.

I try to remember to breathe. That God has us in His hands. That none of our struggle, none of my husband’s illness, and none of my fear takes Him by surprise. That He has a good and perfect plan. But, oh, how the fear tries to win. I never know how in the world we’re going to make it each day. How we will survive each week. How we will make it. Both physically and financially.

Even now, as I lay beside my husband, listening to him breathe in the dark, I’m trying to take deep breaths myself to stave off the panic that’s always just beneath the surface. Oh how we need your prayers, dear friend.

We continue to fight these and other battles daily. Fighting for insurance to cover various treatments and medications. Trying to figure out how we will be able to afford Greg’s medications when his deductible re-sets in January. His medications cost *thousands* of dollars out-of-pocket per month until we meet his annual deductible, which we anticipate will be $8,000 this coming year. My best estimate in this moment without paperwork in front of me is that his medications in January alone will cost close to the full $8,000. The cost of medical care is just staggering.

Additionally, we are waiting to see if his infusions will be effective – doctors say to hope for symptom improvement in October if the treatments are effective. They are also trying to decide if they will move up his next cycle of treatments sooner.

Everything is a question mark, it seems.

Please pray for healing and against fear.

We love you all and are deeply grateful for your support and encouragement.

Love,

T