Our GoFundMe page explains Dwana's illness and the life-saving surgery she will undergo in October in more detail, but this is Dwana's story -- the start of the journey that got her to today. 

Dear Friends and Family.

This has been a crazy couple of years with many ups and downs. I spent a great deal of time as a caregiver for Jon's Dad after an unfortunate situation left him frail and ailing without proper care (Some of you know the extent of the so-called care he was receiving when we discovered the truth of his situation). I moved to Pennsylvania full-time to care for him at his home and Jon joined us on the weekends. 

With a lot of hard work, we got Dad's health in order (when I moved in, he was underweight, dehydrated, had pressure sores, and was confused), got his home in order (the people who were supposed to be caring for him turned out to be drug dealers who trashed the house he built more than 50 years ago) and got him connected with home health and community services. He was stronger, gained weight, thinking clearer, and his home was clean and well-kept once more. 

Then I got sick. I couldn't breath. I couldn't climb the stairs. During one of our many daily phone calls, Jon urged me go to the ER, but they said I probably had suddenly developed asthma and should get rid of Dad's cat. They were wrong. The inhalers they prescribed didn't help. I pushed myself to continue being Dad's "Girl Friday." I compensated. I turned into MacGyver and used a tool belt to help me carry things. I went up and down the stairs on my butt. I hid how tired I was from Jon and figured out ways to care for Dad with the help of Hospice and our overnight Home Health Aide Kishia Henry-Edgerton. 

July of 2018, we were granted respite care for Dad through Hospice so I could go home to Maryland for the weekend. I collapsed in our living room and Jon had to call 911. It turns out I hadn't developed asthma at age 53. It was something far more serious. Both my lungs were riddled with blood clots (pulmonary emboli). It is by God's grace that NONE broke free and traveled to my heart. I'm still here.

After extensive treatment, I was eventually able to return to PA to care for Dad in his final days. His passing was peaceful. His son was at his side. His favorite music was playing and he was in his own home. That was in December. I stayed in Pennsylvania to get the house in order while Jon grieved. He is an only child and now his few cousins and I are his only family. I started feeling sick again but didn't want to tell anyone. I thought it was grief and the stress of putting Dad's affairs in order that made me so tired. I was wrong.

The details of my illness and the treatment that will literally save my life can be found in our GoFundMe campaign. Health insurance only covers some of the medical expenses and Jon is carrying the burden of my care and our finances alone right now. Please share the link with your friends if you're so inclined.Those who know me well know I don't easily ask for help. This is hard, but Jon and I need all the help in the world right now. Our faith in God and love for each other fuels each breath I take. My doctors and nurses are amazing, our loved ones sustain me and our friends are the family of my heart.

Please keep us in your prayers and God willing, by next year at this time, I'll be dancing and singing and causing mayhem again.