In 2011, during the 4th of July holiday, I suffered a ¾ inch-wide blow-out of my “duodenum” (the first part of my small intestine, where the stomach normally empties its contents during the initial stages of digestion, an ulceration that caused excruciating pain). After throwing up a large amount of blood, my son Callan (who eventually became an advanced EMT) drove me and my wife DeeAnn to the nearest hospital in what amounted to a major emergency that required surgery. This condition had been developing from years of unusual stress from many factors, but mainly due to our family’s many years of difficult political work, as well as undertaking the task of designing and building our family’s farm home entirely by ourselves as a family project at the same time. A very skilled surgeon repaired the damage to my duodenum and had me on bed rest in the hospital to recover several days without having any significant food while I was sustained intravenously, which caused me to lose a lot of weight.

Twelve years later (2023), Callan and DeeAnn rushed me to another nearby hospital in our area for what appeared to be initial indications of another ulcer developing at the same basic location in my body. We were deeply concerned about the possibility of a serious recurrence of what happened in 2011. Two CT scans showed I was suffering the initial stages of what could later be a serious crisis—as I recall—but nothing that required emergency intervention at the time. Doctors prescribed an over-the-counter acid reducer called “Omeprazole” and sent me on my way.

During the spring of this year (2026), I began to suffer recurring abdominal pains that made sleeping increasingly difficult and progressed to where I was frequently throwing up, which caused me to lose 40 lbs in 4 months. It was apparent that my symptoms weren’t going to improve, so Callan and DeeAnn took me back to the previous hospital’s ER for a close look at my condition. Unfortunately, since this particular hospital is relatively new and small, it didn’t have enough rooms with beds for me to stay in to be treated, and we were advised to wait while the ER staff monitored a larger hospital 15 miles away that soon expected to have more bed space for new patients. After 3-4 hours, this major hospital agreed to have me transported by ambulance to their ER (the trip was accomplished by EMT friends of Callan whom he knew from his prior work as an EMT in the area). These former associates of Callan were very helpful during the move.

This large hospital put me up in a relatively large room that had apparently been used recently by hospital staff in expanding the scope of their work in that part of the hospital (in other words, it appeared to be central to the hospital’s clarification of its focus, and I felt grateful to be included in that apparent administrative growth, which I was happy to help the hospital in refining by offering occasional questions and feedback. See the following photo of the hospital’s prominently posted instructions for new patients).

Before long, I was taken to a testing part of the hospital for an “endoscopy” given through my mouth (using small exploratory tubes and cameras as doctors examined my digestive system for early indications of wear and tear that could be corrected without surgery.)

As I recall, they concluded that my small intestine was possibly being blocked by previous scar tissue as my stomach sought to pass its partially digested gastric contents to my duodenum. The doctors focused on feeding me through IVs, and a large battery-operated “nasogastric” enteral feeding tube system with a liquid formula made by Nestle foods—a smaller battery and formula which DeeAnn was taught to how to use in the convenience of our home after my discharge from the hospital. It’s an uncomfortable system I’ve been on for several weeks while I go largely without anything to eat or drink. Thankfully, our primary family doctor (a good friend who was raised across the street from our farm) approved me to eat “Outshine frozen fruit juice bars” to a limited extent during times of intense hunger (which is quite often), while I’m being sustained through a tube in my nose with formula and water running through it, compliments of Nestle, Inc.

On March 25, 2027, I plan to turn 80 (along with musician Elton John, Who I frequently tell the pharmacy at Walmart—when I’m asked my date of birth and I answer with the shared birthday between me and Elton John with the lame joke: “We were born from the same mother; he went one way and I went another.” Both of us are no doubt hoping to be able to celebrate our 80th birthdays as planned.

In the meantime, DeeAnn plans to keep my feeder up and running, hard as that’s been for both her and me to do.

I’m also scheduled for another endoscopy on August 19, to see how things are progressing with my innards, as I try—with the grace of God—to heal. Note that when I was about 13, I was given a “special blessing” by a soon-to-be high official of our church (who later became the voice of the church’s “semiannual report of its audit committee”). In his blessing, he warned me that “When you are engaged in important work, Satan will try to damage that work by undermining your health and destroying your body.” He then added that “the Lord will not permit it as long as you “walk in his paths”—details he left for me to discover for myself.

I think often of this man’s words to me. When I was first taken to the ER with a possible developing ulcer several months ago, I quoted this man when I was first asked what I needed, and the response was understandable amusement.

Meanwhile, DeeAnn and I are concerned about the medical bills we’ve been receiving so far, which have been considerable. The stress of those costs—in addition to the continual toll on my physical health—has worn me out and made it doubly hard to keep up with the daily challenges of maintaining RenewAmerica.com and trying to finish our home.

If you would like to help with my recovery (as well as with my daily work at RenewAmerica and with the final details of our house), please consider making a charitable donation for that purpose. You can do so through choosing any of the options below:

1. GoFundMe

2. PayPal, using my email address editor@renewamerica.com to transfer money to.

3. A personal check to:
   Stephen Stone
   PO Box 50502
   Provo, Utah 84605-0502
   

Just so you know, the medical staff where I’ve been receiving treatment have repeatedly indicated they want me and DeeAnn to share with them our plan for paying our accumulating medical bills (although their published guidelines state they will not deny anyone needed care). Hence this very personal message to our readers.

Note that we have no Medicaid or Medicare, since I consider them to be part of a socialistic system that began with Social Security, which I consider a deceptive scam that originated during the world’s Depression Era. By definition, socialism involves forcibly taking from some people and giving their property to others—a system that requires an all-powerful central government. Years ago, Texas Governor Rick Perry called Social Security “a ponzi scheme.” (See Stanley Kurtz’s article “Perry and the Ponzis,” linked below. For context of what is deliberately at issue, see also the Wikipedia article titled “Ponzi Scheme,” as well as Cato.org’s “Social Security is a legal Ponzi scheme.”

Thank you very much for any help you can give!