Surgery & Recovery Support for Michelle & Rachel
Donation protected
SUMMARY:
How to even begin? I guess I should start by telling you who I am and why I’m doing this.
My name is Rachel Floyd and I am the daughter of Michelle Kester Floyd. My Mom has been battling a myriad of health issues since late last year (2016) but, was unable to seek treatment until February 2017 due to various reasons (mainly money and not having a primary care physician at the time). She has since been diagnosed with congestive heart failure, hyperthyroidism, and severe anemia, for which she has been seeking treatment. There are still a number of serious health concerns that are outstanding but, we’ve been told it will take time to get a full picture of her health.
We (myself and my sister, Whitney Harding) are asking for financial support for our mother’s medical and living expenses as we’re unable to shoulder the costs by ourselves; we are the extent of her immediate family.
Know that any donation made is truly appreciated! As her health condition continues to develop, we will work to provide regular updates.
All our love,
Rachel Floyd and Whitney Harding
FULL STORY:
In late 2016, I came home to my Mom’s house for Thanksgiving and was shocked to find that she’d lost a considerable amount of weight and didn’t seem super healthy. I was concerned but didn’t think too much of it. I had seen her weight fluctuate normally through the years and knew that she’d been sick with what I thought was a chest cold. I also attributed it to the fact that the holidays are just rough on everyone, especially a single, divorced mother of two whose children have both “left the nest.”
Humans always have a way of rationalizing something scary that they maybe don’t want to deal with at the time, which was my case. I selfishly “had enough to worry about” with my own life and figured that if she wasn’t concerned, I wouldn’t be too bothered by it.
When Christmas rolled around a few short weeks later, I trudged back to Decatur where my Mom lives only to find that she seemed to be worse. Her complexion was gray, she was visibly exhausted, and had lost even more weight. We were worried, to say the least.
Throughout the holidays, she’d been constantly ill (nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea, most notably) and had only gotten worse throughout January; she’d lost all energy, was unable to sleep, and was disoriented and extremely weak. We were counting down the days until she had her first appointment with her new PCP at the beginning of February. Knowing what I know now, I wish we had just taken her to the ER.
She called me the day after her appointment; I was at home in Chicago doing my normal after-work routine of drinking red wine and snuggling on the couch with Annie (adopted angel puppy). She said that she’d been to the doctor and needed to tell me something. (Insert stomach drop)
Her doctor had called her to let her know that she had hyperthyroidism and was severely anemic; he wanted to run a few more tests and refer her to an endocrinologist in Springfield. I called my sister and we both freaked but agreed that we needed to keep each other in the loop and would handle it as a team.
I don’t really know how to describe what happened in the following weeks up until now. It’s been a constant stream of doctor’s appointments, tests, doctor’s appointments, and worried phone calls. We were told that she wouldn’t be able to see the endocrinologist (who would be treating her hyperthyroidism) until early May. Her PCP, Dr. A, had ordered more blood work, a bone scan, a CT scan of her abdomen, a CT scan of her chest, a stool sample, referred her to a hematologist for the anemia, referred her to a GI doctor to get an endoscopy and colonoscopy done, and referred her to Dr. R (the endocrinologist).
Every single week she was going to multiple appointments, getting multiple tests done, and was missing multiple days of work. I think that most people who have ever managed a truly sick child or family member will understand when I say that this was a full-time job on top of the one that she already had. We knew that money was becoming an issue but I felt optimistic (AKA in denial) that I would be able to help wherever necessary and that she’d start to “feel better soon.” Denial is a very powerful tool.
After a few more tests we’d found out that she’d had a few ulcers in her stomach that appeared to be healing and had some polyps found and biopsied during her colonoscopy (still awaiting results). They’d also found fluid around her heart and her liver and that, after a weekly check-in appointment with her PCP, she was going to be seeing the endocrinologist the very next day (non-negotiable).
After seeing Dr. R, the endo, she was told that she’s now in congestive heart failure and that, following a few tests they’d done in the office, is in critical condition with her thyroid. Critical meaning that if her body could withstand surgery, they would have already scheduled an emergency thyroidectomy. At this stage, she is too weak.
It is now Sunday, April 30th and I am sitting on my Mom’s couch in Decatur while writing this. I came home after getting the last round of news and am staying through Tuesday when we’ll see another doctor for a second opinion. I am exhausted and I’m not even the one who’s sick.
The amount of medication that she is now taking on a daily basis is astounding; 12 in total. She has to weigh herself daily to make sure she’s not losing too much weight with the water pills. Until Friday she was wearing a heart monitor and couldn’t shower for three days. She is truly fighting every single day.
I wish that I could just take all of this away. I wish I could afford to give her what she deserves because she sacrificed for so many years while raising us. I wish I had more answers.
But this isn’t about me. It’s about her and making sure that we can get her the best treatment.
She’s been at her job for years but, she’s still only paid on an hourly basis. She has minimal benefits and is constantly worried about job safety. She was unable to pay her rent last month (which my sister took care of) and struggles to even keep food in her fridge. There is only so much that my sister and I can do at this stage and so, we’re asking you for help.
I don’t know who is reading this but, if you’ve gotten this far, we are so extremely grateful. Her situation is urgent and any donations that we receive through this site will go directly to help paying for medical bills, medicine, treatment, rent, and other living expenses. I will be working to post copies of her bills and receipts.
If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to reach out. We would love to hear from you.
Giving it all up to God and praying for some miracles!
Thank you for being you. No matter who you are. We appreciate your time and consideration more than you know.
All our love and appreciation,
Rachel Floyd and Whitney Harding
How to even begin? I guess I should start by telling you who I am and why I’m doing this.
My name is Rachel Floyd and I am the daughter of Michelle Kester Floyd. My Mom has been battling a myriad of health issues since late last year (2016) but, was unable to seek treatment until February 2017 due to various reasons (mainly money and not having a primary care physician at the time). She has since been diagnosed with congestive heart failure, hyperthyroidism, and severe anemia, for which she has been seeking treatment. There are still a number of serious health concerns that are outstanding but, we’ve been told it will take time to get a full picture of her health.
We (myself and my sister, Whitney Harding) are asking for financial support for our mother’s medical and living expenses as we’re unable to shoulder the costs by ourselves; we are the extent of her immediate family.
Know that any donation made is truly appreciated! As her health condition continues to develop, we will work to provide regular updates.
All our love,
Rachel Floyd and Whitney Harding
FULL STORY:
In late 2016, I came home to my Mom’s house for Thanksgiving and was shocked to find that she’d lost a considerable amount of weight and didn’t seem super healthy. I was concerned but didn’t think too much of it. I had seen her weight fluctuate normally through the years and knew that she’d been sick with what I thought was a chest cold. I also attributed it to the fact that the holidays are just rough on everyone, especially a single, divorced mother of two whose children have both “left the nest.”
Humans always have a way of rationalizing something scary that they maybe don’t want to deal with at the time, which was my case. I selfishly “had enough to worry about” with my own life and figured that if she wasn’t concerned, I wouldn’t be too bothered by it.
When Christmas rolled around a few short weeks later, I trudged back to Decatur where my Mom lives only to find that she seemed to be worse. Her complexion was gray, she was visibly exhausted, and had lost even more weight. We were worried, to say the least.
Throughout the holidays, she’d been constantly ill (nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea, most notably) and had only gotten worse throughout January; she’d lost all energy, was unable to sleep, and was disoriented and extremely weak. We were counting down the days until she had her first appointment with her new PCP at the beginning of February. Knowing what I know now, I wish we had just taken her to the ER.
She called me the day after her appointment; I was at home in Chicago doing my normal after-work routine of drinking red wine and snuggling on the couch with Annie (adopted angel puppy). She said that she’d been to the doctor and needed to tell me something. (Insert stomach drop)
Her doctor had called her to let her know that she had hyperthyroidism and was severely anemic; he wanted to run a few more tests and refer her to an endocrinologist in Springfield. I called my sister and we both freaked but agreed that we needed to keep each other in the loop and would handle it as a team.
I don’t really know how to describe what happened in the following weeks up until now. It’s been a constant stream of doctor’s appointments, tests, doctor’s appointments, and worried phone calls. We were told that she wouldn’t be able to see the endocrinologist (who would be treating her hyperthyroidism) until early May. Her PCP, Dr. A, had ordered more blood work, a bone scan, a CT scan of her abdomen, a CT scan of her chest, a stool sample, referred her to a hematologist for the anemia, referred her to a GI doctor to get an endoscopy and colonoscopy done, and referred her to Dr. R (the endocrinologist).
Every single week she was going to multiple appointments, getting multiple tests done, and was missing multiple days of work. I think that most people who have ever managed a truly sick child or family member will understand when I say that this was a full-time job on top of the one that she already had. We knew that money was becoming an issue but I felt optimistic (AKA in denial) that I would be able to help wherever necessary and that she’d start to “feel better soon.” Denial is a very powerful tool.
After a few more tests we’d found out that she’d had a few ulcers in her stomach that appeared to be healing and had some polyps found and biopsied during her colonoscopy (still awaiting results). They’d also found fluid around her heart and her liver and that, after a weekly check-in appointment with her PCP, she was going to be seeing the endocrinologist the very next day (non-negotiable).
After seeing Dr. R, the endo, she was told that she’s now in congestive heart failure and that, following a few tests they’d done in the office, is in critical condition with her thyroid. Critical meaning that if her body could withstand surgery, they would have already scheduled an emergency thyroidectomy. At this stage, she is too weak.
It is now Sunday, April 30th and I am sitting on my Mom’s couch in Decatur while writing this. I came home after getting the last round of news and am staying through Tuesday when we’ll see another doctor for a second opinion. I am exhausted and I’m not even the one who’s sick.
The amount of medication that she is now taking on a daily basis is astounding; 12 in total. She has to weigh herself daily to make sure she’s not losing too much weight with the water pills. Until Friday she was wearing a heart monitor and couldn’t shower for three days. She is truly fighting every single day.
I wish that I could just take all of this away. I wish I could afford to give her what she deserves because she sacrificed for so many years while raising us. I wish I had more answers.
But this isn’t about me. It’s about her and making sure that we can get her the best treatment.
She’s been at her job for years but, she’s still only paid on an hourly basis. She has minimal benefits and is constantly worried about job safety. She was unable to pay her rent last month (which my sister took care of) and struggles to even keep food in her fridge. There is only so much that my sister and I can do at this stage and so, we’re asking you for help.
I don’t know who is reading this but, if you’ve gotten this far, we are so extremely grateful. Her situation is urgent and any donations that we receive through this site will go directly to help paying for medical bills, medicine, treatment, rent, and other living expenses. I will be working to post copies of her bills and receipts.
If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to reach out. We would love to hear from you.
Giving it all up to God and praying for some miracles!
Thank you for being you. No matter who you are. We appreciate your time and consideration more than you know.
All our love and appreciation,
Rachel Floyd and Whitney Harding
Organizer
Rachel Floyd
Organizer
Decatur, IL