Ten years ago, I lost my older sister, Sharon Wilma Torrico-Osorio, to ALS. She was only 27.

It took months for specialists to figure out what was happening to her body. She told us on Christmas Day that she had ALS. Even then, even facing something that terrifying, Sharon felt it was her responsibility to protect us from the weight of it. She fought through every bit of it with a strength that still humbles me. She was determined not to be a burden, even as we were determined to carry her. I wish the world could have seen her full potential. I wish we all had that chance.

Sharon was a light you couldn't miss: warm, happy energy that filled every room she walked into.

She made the people around her feel safe and grounded, like everything was going to be okay. As the oldest, she bore that role with pride, always making sure her younger siblings were taken care of. That instinct extended to every creature she encountered. She was soft and kind with animals, working towards becoming a Vet. She always kept an extra leash and treats on her because she had a habit of finding lost dogs and always made sure they got home. Someone who showed up for the helpless, every single time, without being asked.

My favorite memory of her has nothing to do with any of her ambitions, though. When she was 15 and I was 9, we'd ride our bikes up the street to the Dollar Tree. We'd grab a SoBe and some chips, find a spot on the sidewalk, and just sit. Just the two of us, snacking in the sun. It wasn't a big moment but it's the one I keep coming back to

What is ALS?

ALS is typically diagnosed in older white men. Sharon was none of that. ALS is a progressive, degenerative disease with no cure. It slowly strips away your ability to walk, to talk, and eventually to breathe. It is devastating — not just for the person diagnosed, but for every person who loves them.

It came out of nowhere and hit our family like a freight train. We scrambled, traveling across Latin America chasing any treatment that might save her. The bills piled up fast: walkers, a fully electric wheelchair, medications, therapy, specialists visits, unpaid time off from work. All of it just to buy her a few more months and to make those last months, filled with agonizing pain, a little more bearable.

I am Dr. Andrew, founder of Elite Motion Chiro.

I built this practice to help people keep moving through pain and build a life of movement with confidence. What I didn't fully realize until recently is how much of that mission is rooted in watching Sharon slowly lose her ability to move, and in understanding, firsthand, just how precious it is to have a body that stays strong.

That's why I support the ALS Association.

They fund research aimed at finding a cure, and they provide resources for families navigating a diagnosis right now. I can't do the science myself, but I can build awareness and keep showing up for this cause.

Last year, I raised $1,100 on my own. This year, I'm asking my community to join me.

Together, our goal is $5,000.

On May 31st, we're hosting a Lift-A-Thon at my clinic, Elite Motion Chiro

314 E. Broadway, Long Beach, CA

Here's how you can be part of it:

How it works: Choose a weight you can reasonably deadlift for 10 reps. Ask your people to pledge a specific dollar amount per rep. If a sponsor pledges $10/rep and you complete 9 reps, they donate $90.