Watching a friend suffer this much is heartbreaking and I can’t fix it alone.
Hi, my name is Mandy. I’m writing this not just as John’s coworker, but as someone who cares deeply about him and can’t stand by quietly right now.
John is only a day out from a major cancer-related scalp reconstruction surgery, his second in just over two weeks and he is in excruciating pain.
On June 16, surgeons had to undermine a large portion of his scalp, rotate a huge section of tissue and secure it with 67 staples across the back of his head. He was already in rough shape when this started, but the recovery has been worse than I think anyone expected — because he also has chronic kidney disease (CKD). That changes everything.
CKD makes wound healing slower. It increases the risk of infection, nerve damage and systemic complications. And worst of all, it severely limits which pain medications are safe. Most of what would normally be prescribed can actually make his condition worse.
And yet, the only medications that are safe for his kidneys — Butrans, Exalgo, and Duragesic — are not covered by insurance. They’re considered “non-formulary,” meaning he could wait weeks or longer for an appeal, but still be denied. Right now, his only option is to pay out of pocket or suffer without.
And I do mean suffer.
When I saw John last night, he was sitting on the edge of the couch with tears in his eyes. He wasn’t even moving, just trying to stay still and breathe through the pain. He could barely chew food without flinching. I asked him what it felt like. And he said:
“This isn’t some bad headache. It’s not pounding. It feels like a knife is being dragged across raw sunburnt skin constantly, from the base of my skull to the top of my scalp. Even while lying completely still, the pain radiates through every nerve on the back of my head. Just sitting upright or resting on the couch without moving is often unbearable. I wake up in agony and I go to sleep in agony.”
That’s not just pain. That’s torment. And he’s having to deal with it without proper medication, while also trying to keep his immune system stable, his wound clean and his body functional. If you know Johnny, he tries to take care of his body but often doesn’t tell anyone he hurts or worried, he rather help others more than anything.
He’s been forced to take medical leave. His parents are doing what they can to support him, but they’re older and living on limited income. He has no nearby family to help with the daily realities of healing from something this serious. I’m bringing meals and offering help around the house ever since his first cancer surgery in 2022, 2023 and 2024, but it doesn’t feel like enough and the cost of the right medications and wound care supplies is climbing fast.
This fundraiser will go toward:
• Non-covered medications essential for pain control and infection prevention
• Supplies for wound care at home
• Recovery essentials like secondary therapies and over-the-counter treatments that insurance doesn’t cover.
Please, if you’ve ever had someone in your life who needed help but was too proud to ask, I’m asking for them now. John isn’t the type to reach out for himself. But I’ve seen what this is doing to him. And I know this is the moment when our support could make the biggest difference in whether he heals, and how much he suffers in the process.
Please don’t scroll past this thinking someone else will step in.
Right now, John needs us — not later, not after insurance paperwork clears, not when the pain is less — right now, while he’s hurting, exhausted and just trying to hold on. Every hour without proper relief chips away at his strength and puts his healing at risk.
Even the smallest act like a few dollars, a share, a prayer, that could be the thing that gets him through today.
Years ago, back in 2017, another friend of his, Kayla, tried to organize support for John during his fight for a dual organ transplant. She poured her heart into trying to help — but no one said anything. No one stepped up. The silence then left a lasting scar and it’s part of why John was so hesitant, even now, to let anyone ask for help on his behalf.
But this time, I believe it can be different. Thank you for being the kind of person who reads this to the end. It means more than you know.
—Mandy
