Let’s start the new year off right by helping a friend in need!
Haggin Oaks is holding a silent auction fundraiser for our employee and friend, Mark McEvoy and we need YOUR help!
Please come to MacKenzie’s Bar and Grille at Haggin Oaks on Friday, January 13th from 6pm-10pm for food and fun.
For a $10 donation at the door, dinner will be provided. ALL proceeds will go directly to the family.
There will be a chipping contest, silent auction and live auction with fun prizes raffled throughout the night.
How can you help? We want to see you THIS Friday, January 13th! Please show your support! Call 719-200-4140 to RSVP or click HERE to RSVP via email. Bring a friend.
Please click HERE to check out this event page on Facebook too.
Mark’s newborn son was only 2 months old, and here we were wondering “what next”? Mark is now preparing to go back on the transplant list for a second life saving lung transplant.
Mark was born with Cystic Fibrosis, a genetic disorder of the pancreas that causes excessive mucus production in the pancreas and other organs including the lungs.
When he was born, his life expectancy was originally listed as 9 years old. As Mark grew older, Medicine grew wiser to the disease and the life expectancy of a CFer was extended to 16. Prior to his first transplant, those suffering from CF were not expected to live past their thirties, Mark was 29 at the time he received the gift of easy breathing.
Here’s a post that Mark’s wife, Brandi, wrote on their CaringBridge website on Monday, January 9th:
It’s too late at night for a detailed post, but I want to keep you all informed on our happenings. We got home late Friday night & Saturday we were inundated with medical supplies for Mark’s 3 different IV meds. Our house looked like a pharmacy & medical supply place blew up and we collected all the debris. It was chaos to put it nicely.
Fortunately, I have great friends and a wonderful neighbor who came over and helped me dismantle our Christmas decorations (and another friend helped me go through piled paperwork & mail) which made the house more livable. I organized all The supplies and tucked them into a cabinet I bought just for that purpose. Even so, we still have boxes of feeding tube food and bags in our dining room.
I’ve tried to maintain a normal house (in that previously all medical stuff was tucked away or aside), but this most recent hospital stay forced the IV pole out of its box. Mark’s attached to his IV pole for nearly 20hrs each day/night as his feeding tube, lipids, and two different antibiotics are infused over various periods – with the longest running while he sleeps. His lung function is bad enough that he is no longer able to make it up the stairs to come to bed or get a new set of clothes (he sleeps downstairs and I’ve been bringing him clothes daily). We’ve not even attempted to get him upstairs for a shower, and I’m not entirely sure how we’ll manage that. It’s a hurdle we’ll jump when we must (and I think tomorrow will have to be that day). Either we tackle the stairs or it’s sponge baths from here on (perhaps he won’t argue that second one too much). :)
Life’s definitely different now, and I’m not entirely sure how to feel about it. Together, Mark and I oscillate between normalcy, sadness, hope, fear, and gratitude. As we get use to the new IV medication routine (which we don’t know how long it will go on – the prescriptions give no indication of end point), we’ll struggle, but as with everything else in our lives: we’ll adapt. Together, we’ll find our way. No matter how many tubes, wires, or machines he has attached to himself, I still love him and consider myself lucky and incredibly blessed to have him as my husband and the father of our child.