Update: Anything raised above our goal will go towards covering our first stay in Rochester and outstanding medical bills. Appreciate you all!

Well, it's that time.

As you may know, I have been struggling with my health since I was in a head-on collision with a wrong-way driver on January 30, 2025. Miraculously, I walked away from that accident, but not without lasting injuries to my neck and lower back. Slowly, with the assistance of physical therapy and medication, I was able to physically return to work and life, taper off medication, and get closer to functioning as I once did.

On December 6, 2025, something happened (we still don't know what exactly) that intensely spiked my symptoms, robbing me of my ability to walk without horrible, agonizing pain. In order to just take a few steps, I had to have a vice grip on Sam's arm to keep from crawling, all while crying and calling out in pain.

We didn't understand what was wrong, and neither did the doctors.

I had to completely stop work to get MRI after MRI, x-ray after x-ray, test after test. The ride in the car to get to these appointments was torture, making everything worse and getting us no closer to actual answers. I got a walker and a wheelchair, unable to walk unassisted. Sam had to balance work with calls to insurance and doctors, advocating for my care as hard as he could.

My job was to focus on managing the pain.

Whatever happened on December 6th has taken over Sam and I's lives. Outside of medical appointments, I've been completely homebound, missing out on mundane things like walks with Sam and grocery shopping, bigger things like holidays, baby showers, graduations, and just what it means to be able to leave your home.

We've been to so many specialists, clinics, hospitals, and virtual appointments all to dead ends. Sam had to be home with me at all times for my own safety. Though I returned to remote work intermittently, I ultimately had to stop working completely. My body just couldn't take it.

Then came the procedural interventions.

After an exploratory procedure on February 18th that ended up making my legs unusable, I had a dangerous, deadly complication called a pseudoaneurysm that required immediate corrective surgery. As a result, my legs stopped moving completely. They kept me in the hospital until my next procedure, which was supposed to fix my back problems.

In that procedure, they discovered that the problem/solution they thought was there, wasn't there. There was nothing they could fix and, though I was finally able to take a few steps with a walker the day before, my legs were back to being useless because of this procedure.

I couldn't walk and we had no answers.

I was in the hospital for 22 days and was worse than when I went in and no closer to a solution. Though I was back to walking with a walker again, I was no closer to walking without pain. We pushed for referrals to Mayo, hoping the top-notch experts there could help us figure out what was wrong and what to do about it. We got the referrals. Thankfully, Mayo took my case. We went to Rochester for 10 days. We met with their specialists. They ran more tests. They found evidence that I'd had a bleed in my brain called a subarachnoid hemorrhage. Here are the stats of survival according to the National Institute of Health:

"Initial Mortality: About 10% to 15% of patients die before they even reach the hospital.

30-Day Survival: Roughly 50% to 60% of patients survive the initial 30 days following the hemorrhage.

1-Year Survival: For those who survive the first month, mortality rates range between 20% and 24% at the 1-year mark.

Long-Term Functional Outcome: Only about 30% to 40% of patients recover well enough to return to fully independent living."

With the head-on collision, the subarachnoid hemorrhage, and the pseudoaneurysm, I have somehow escaped death three times since January 30, 2025. But not unscathed.

The injuries and pain will likely be with me for the rest of my life.

The specialists at Mayo said the best we can do is manage the pain, which is officially chronic pain. They recommended their intensive outpatient pain rehabilitation clinic, which is the gold standard of treatment for people who are suffering from lasting, unsolvable pain.

I was assessed. I got in.

And, man, am I lucky.

This intensive pain rehabilitation program is extremely selective and provides a month of holistic care. They only take 15 people at a time and they provide physical therapy, occupational therapy, psychotherapy and psychoeducation, medical care, and medication management, and they are one of very few holistic pain rehab clinics in the country. The next closest one is in Chicago.

The purpose of this clinic is to help patients increase their level of function and return to living their lives. They help you build up your strength and stamina, decrease your reliance on medications, and teach strategies and tools to empower you to take control back from pain and discover personalized ways to adapt and move forward.

In order to do this clinic, which consists of daily programming from 8am-4pm Monday through Friday for a month, Sam and I have to live in Rochester. (Meaning, including our initial stay, we will have spent 6 out of 8 weeks living in Rochester seeking treatment.) Mayo does not provide housing or food and, though we have been doing our best financially throughout this entire ordeal, we are at the point of asking for help.

I haven't been able to work for over three months due to these health issues, Sam can't work at his side job while he's in Rochester with me, and, on top of everything else, we had a pipe burst while I was in the hospital that required immediate, expensive attention. In addition to needing to replace that pipe and most of our upstairs plumbing, our homeowners insurance told us they would end our coverage unless we also replaced 8 of our windows. This summer.

Our wallet has been hit hard.

So, unfortunately, we are at this point. We are sad and embarrassed to create this GoFundMe, but this is our reality right now and, as we all know, it's okay to ask for help.

If you would like to assist us with the financial burden of living in Rochester while I access this high-quality, specialized treatment to help me return to living, working, and being myself, we'd so appreciate your generosity. The funding will go toward helping us pay for housing, food, and other medical expenses.

It's not easy to ask and there's no pressure to give. Even if you've just read this far, we thank you for caring.

The really important things I've learned throughout this experience are these:

Take good care of your health. Go to the doctor if you feel like something is wrong. Notice how it feels to take a walk in the sun.

It's all so precious and there's so much to be grateful for.

Thank you again for reading.