Help Save John Dean's Life

Hi everyone. I’m John Dean, and I need your help.

I am a lifelong writer and a lover of all things outdoors—especially forests. As a member of the Watoga State Park Foundation, I am fortunate to be able to combine both passions. I give back by using my gift of writing to help Watoga, West Virginia’s largest state park, where I grew up and lived on-site for 16 years when my dad was a park ranger there. Currently, I live near the New River Gorge National Park, still immersed in the breathtaking vistas of the Mountain State.

Over the years, I’ve penned many stories about others—their victories, trials, and tribulations—sometimes working under pressure-filled publication deadlines. While writing is my passion, I’ve never had the desire to write about myself. That changed just a few months ago and I have now become the central character in my own story—about myself and my will to live. So far, it’s a bittersweet tale. The ending is yet to be told. Please read on to learn more about my journey and my fight to live.

On that fateful partly sunny day, June 28, 2022, I sat in stunned silence at the Tausig Cancer Institute while a Cleveland Clinic oncology surgeon told me that I had inoperable pancreatic cancer. He said, “John, you may have two years to live. But I would be surprised if you’re here in five years.” I am not currently eligible for surgery because my tumor has tentacles wrapped around blood vessels leading to my stomach and to an artery that feeds my liver. He said that I would die within three to seven days if he operated.

Now, I am the one on a deadline. I have a choice: Fight to live or get my end-of-life affairs in order, to give up and just die. But I want to live! And I am going to put up one heck of a fight!

Since that June day, which now seems like years ago, I regularly travel 600-plus miles round trip to the Cleveland Clinic to meet with cancer specialists. The four-month CT scan in November revealed that the tumor had not shrunk in size, but it had also not metastasized, and I was still Stage 3—thank God! Recently, I completed Cycle 9 of 12 aggressive chemo sessions at a cancer center about an hour’s drive from my home.

Just the other day, I received a medical bill from my insurance company: More than $125,000 in expenses so far. In addition, my credit cards are reaching their limit with travel expenses (hotels, gasoline, food, medical co-pays, etc.). On chemo days alone, I take 14 prescriptions, only partly covered by my prescription plan. On December 21, 2022, I will finish my 12th and final chemo cycle for a total of 624 hours of chemotherapy.

Please see the photo included for documentation on remaining deductibles for 2022 ($3,612.54 of $6,780). Next year, my deductible will be $10,000. Yikes.

In early January 2023, I will return to the Cleveland Clinic for a final assessment and learn what course of treatment my oncologist and surgeon recommend going forward.

Soon afterward, I will be at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York City and then on to MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston for additional medical opinions. These cancer centers have unique, cutting-edge treatments for my specific cancer that are not available elsewhere. Their specialists are on the forefront of research about what options are available to me, but my fear is that I will not have the financial resources needed.

I still have people to meet, forests to explore, ways to give back, stories to pen, and yes, even deadlines that will be seen in a new light. Hopefully, the next story I write will be about how I survived pancreatic cancer. I was raised to not ask for help, but I need to ask for your help now, for which I will be eternally grateful. Please help me win the fight for my life by donating today.

#helpsavejohndeanslife