I’m just going to come out and say it: My friend needs a new computer, and I’m asking you to help me get her one.
(Whew – that felt good. I’ve been trying to ask you this for several weeks now, and I’ve just had tremendous writer’s block).
You may remember I’ve talked about friends whose daughter, Zoe, had a heart transplant almost two years ago when she was only a month old. You can read my posts about it here, and you can read their blog to catch up on what’s going on.
Jenny and I talk on a regular basis, and it just so happens that we both like to geek out on Quicken as a means of keeping track of our finances, so we talk about our receipts and our spread sheets and our reconciled bank statements and how far behind we are and what are you doing to track this and such. I warned you that we are geeks.
However, lately her end of the conversation has gone a lot like this:
“When I turned off my computer last night, the fan kept running for the next six hours.”
“Zoe pushed a button on the the CPU and it crashed. Now I can’t get it to turn back on.”
“No, don’t send me an email. My computer hasn’t worked since yesterday morning.”
And so on.
In addition to the flaky technology, Zoe is now in the hospital for the second time this winter. Both now and the previous time she was there, my friend Jen spends the entire hospital stay with her, and cannot not leave the room for fear she will pick up a virus and bring it back to Zoe’s lowered immune system (in this case, it’s Zoe who may have the virus they don’t want spreading to other patients).
A new laptop would not only solve their flaky computer problems, but Jen would be able to bring it with her during hospital stays and routine doctor visits (and there are a lot). She can use it to update her blog about Zoe’s condition, correspond with family, stay on top of their personal finances, and entertain Zoe with DVD’s – things she cannot currently do without leaving the hospital room.
[update: a laptop would also mean Jen could use a web cam to call home and talk to her four year old son who is not permitted to visit the hospital].
This is obviously not an expense covered by insurance, and your donation would not be tax deductible. But I can bribe you. I know there is always room for a bribe. I will send one of my CD mixes to each person who donates money.
And not only that, but all donors will be entered into a random drawing to win a gift certificate for the t-shirt of your choice from the infamous Baby Brewing collection, the brainchild of Mommy Needs a Cocktail.
And not only that, but if you mention this need on your blog and link directly to this post, you will get a second entry for the chance to win the t-shirt.
The contest will end Sunday at noon, but the opportunity to give will be available for an undetermined time.
To donate using Paypal or your credit/debit card, just click this button:
To give you an idea of what it’s like to be the parent of a transplant patient, Jen once explained it to me like this…
Imagine being 38 weeks pregnant FOREVER. What does it mean to be 38 weeks pregnant? It means you always have a bag packed, and any plans you make might have to be canceled.
Jen missed our book club meeting last night because Zoe was admitted to the hospital yesterday afternoon. This may not seem like a big deal, and it’s not when you look at the big picture, but repeated disruption of whatever “normal” life looks like for this family becomes discouraging. Particularly when you think of their four year old son who can’t even visit the hospital.
Please keep this family in your prayers. And if you can, please donate.
Thank you.
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[update $635 raised so far – amazing!]
