My Beautiful Community, Family, Friends, and Kind Hearts

My name is Isis Thomas. I am a mom of 4, educator, and hold space for others' healing.

I come to you again with humility, urgency, and faith. Writing these words takes courage because they come from a place of deep vulnerability—but I believe that truth spoken from the heart opens the door to collective healing. I am sharing this because my life, my recovery, and my ability to continue forward truly depend on support right now.

Many of you may not know this, but I learned that I do not have a spleen. This was not something I always understood about my body, yet it explains so much about my health journey. The spleen plays a vital role in the immune system—it helps filter bacteria from the blood and protects the body from severe infections. Without a spleen, my immune system is significantly compromised. This means infections move faster, hit harder, and become life-threatening far more quickly than they would for someone with a fully functioning immune system.

What may be a manageable illness for others can become a medical emergency for me in a very short period of time.

This reality became painfully clear back in April when I experienced a serious medical crisis related to infection. That experience was frightening and life-altering. I was in pain then, and I truly believed that was the hardest thing my body would ever endure.

I now know that April was a warning.

On December 23rd, I was admitted to the hospital. I tested positive for the flu. What began as something many people recover from at home escalated rapidly. The flu progressed into D.I.C. (Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation) and then into sepsis, a life-threatening response to infection that overwhelmed my entire body.

This time was far worse than April—in every way.

The pain was unbearable. It was constant, consuming, and unlike anything I had ever felt before. I thought I understood pain the last time—this was a hundred times worse. There were moments when the pain felt all-encompassing, when my body felt like it was fighting for every breath, every heartbeat. It was not just physical pain, but emotional and spiritual pain—the kind that strips you down and forces you to confront how close you are to the edge.

As my body fought to survive, oxygen was once again restricted to my extremities—more severely than before. My fingers and toes lost circulation and turned black, a visible and terrifying sign of just how close my body came to shutting down entirely.

The pain does not end when I leave the hospital. It is with me daily. Simple movements that once felt automatic—standing, walking, even shifting my weight—now require effort, patience, and strength. Walking is very difficult, and my mobility has been deeply affected by everything my body has endured. I am currently undergoing physical therapy to relearn movement, rebuild strength, and prevent further complications, but each day is a challenge. The pain is constant, and progress is slow, yet I remain committed to doing the work necessary to heal and regain independence.

By God’s grace, I am still here.

But surviving is only the beginning. Healing is now the urgent work before me.

At this stage, I must pursue advanced, time-sensitive treatments to support recovery, restore circulation, manage pain, and preserve tissue. One of the most critical therapies recommended is hyperbaric oxygen therapy, which helps flood the body with oxygen, encouraging healing in areas that were deprived and supporting long-term recovery.

The reality is that these treatments are costly and not fully covered by insurance. Each hyperbaric oxygen session ranges from $350 to $500 (depending on the time in the chamber, 60 min vs. 90 min—I will be in there for 90 minutes each session), and I have been advised that I will need between 50 and 80 sessions. This alone represents a significant financial burden, in addition to ongoing care with my medical doctors, sepsis specialists, and holistic care, all working together to support my healing—body, mind, and spirit.

I am choosing an integrative path because this journey has shown me that healing cannot be rushed, minimized, or addressed in one dimension. My body has endured immense trauma. My nervous system needs care. My spirit needs restoration.

So today, I am asking—with urgency, humility, and faith—for help.

I am reaching out to my friends, my family, my community, and even strangers who believe in the sacredness of life. Any contribution, no matter the size, helps ease this burden and brings me closer to the care I need to heal and continue forward.

If you are unable to give financially, I ask just as sincerely for your prayers, loving intentions, words of encouragement, and for you to share this message. Collective care is powerful, and I feel it holding me even now.

This journey has reminded me of a truth I will never forget:

Life is precious. Breath is sacred. And none of us are meant to walk through suffering alone.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Thank you for holding space for my pain and my healing. Thank you for standing with me in this season.

With deep gratitude, faith, and the strength to keep going,

Isis