If the spinal fusion didn’t stop me, I thought nothing would.

This wasn’t a minor procedure or a single-level repair—this was a long spinal fusion extending from my SI joint up to T8, spanning nearly my entire spine. It’s one of the most extensive forms of spinal fusion performed, and a surgery of that magnitude alone is life-altering, requiring immense recovery, resilience, and time.

Six weeks after that surgery—before I even had a chance to regain my footing—I was hit with a cancer diagnosis. It felt like everything had already been asked of me… and then more was taken.

But what came next is what truly changed the course of my life.

There were clear warning signs—opportunities to correct what was happening—but they were ignored. What followed was a preventable medical error that caused severe nerve damage and led to full-blown trapezius palsy.

Based on published medical literature over the past decade, complications of this nature have been reported in well under 1% of cases for this type of procedure—making what happened here not just rare, but extraordinarily uncommon and, in my case, preventable.

From that moment forward, everything began to spiral.

I’ve gone from being someone who worked tirelessly, created, gave back, and showed up for others… to fighting every day just to manage pain, loss of function, and a body that no longer responds the way it should. This isn’t just about health—it’s about the loss of independence, the loss of the work I loved, and the life I spent decades building.

And yet, I’m still here. Still fighting.

Now I’m facing more major medical decisions ahead—serious procedures that will determine what the rest of my life looks like. The road in front of me is uncertain, but one thing is not: I’m not giving up.

Asking for help is not something that comes naturally to me. I’ve always been the one organizing, cooking, giving, and showing up when others needed it. But right now, I need people in my corner.

To those who have already stepped in—who have donated, shared, reached out, or lifted me up in any way—thank you. You’ve given me more than support… you’ve given me strength when I needed it most.

And to anyone reading this, if you’re able to help in any way—whether it’s contributing, sharing this page, or simply standing with me—I am deeply grateful.

This fight isn’t over. Not even close.