Donations

I hesitated to share this because it’s deeply personal, but the situation will affect me for a long time, and I’m at a point where I need to ask for help.

I grew up in a very poor family in Missouri. We often went without basic necessities—food came from donation centers, rent help came from Section 8, and medical or dental care was something we could only get in emergencies. One of the biggest lasting impacts was dental health. I had a serious sweet tooth growing up, and without guidance or access to proper dental care, my teeth deteriorated quickly. By the time I was 8 or 9 years old, most of my teeth were capped. Several of my siblings experienced the same, and my mother eventually needed full implants in her early 40s.

When I joined the military and finally had access to consistent dental care, I tried hard to repair the damage. But by then, much of it was irreversible. In 2008, I needed two major bridges placed in the roof of my mouth, and another on the bottom a few years later. Over the years, the cycle continued—root canals, crowns, replacements—each one patching a problem that never fully went away.

This past June, one of my bridges finally failed. It was barely attached. My dentist told me that another bridge wouldn’t hold and that the only long-term solution was full upper dental implants. When they showed me the cost, I felt my heart drop. I’m starting my second year as a teacher, and money was already tight. Add to that the fact that I try to save my personal days so I can take my wife to her medical treatments, and the timing couldn’t have been worse.

I delayed the procedure until insurance finished reviewing it. Even after coverage, the remaining balance is overwhelming. Yes, I could put it on a credit card, but that kind of decision is exactly what put me into bankruptcy—twice. I’m trying very hard not to repeat those mistakes.

So I’m doing something I’ve never been comfortable doing: I’m asking for help.

The total cost of the procedure is $29,999. Insurance is covering about $5,200, leaving me responsible for roughly $23,000. I will be putting every dollar of my audiobook royalties toward this, along with per-finished-hour income, and I’m starting Uber on nights and weekends to cover as much as I can. But realistically, I can’t do this alone.

If you’re able to donate—no matter the amount—or even just share this with others, it would mean more to me than I can express. This isn’t just about fixing my smile; it’s about being able to live without constant dental pain, speak confidently as an audiobook narrator, and avoid another lifetime of patchwork repairs.

Thank you for reading my story, and thank you for any help you’re willing to give. Your support truly means the world.