Sometimes life brings you to your knees only to test how hard you’re willing to fight your way back up.

What was supposed to be a routine hernia surgery turned into one of the most frightening and confusing experiences of my life. After surgery, I woke up in recovery with numbness in my left arm—something I told the nurse several times. Instead of immediate help, I was left in recovery to sleep off the anesthesia. When I woke again still in recovery, my entire left side was numb—my arm, my leg, my face—and I couldn’t move properly. Panic set in as medical staff suddenly rushed into “stroke protocol.”

I spent the next week in the hospital undergoing every test possible—CT scans, MRIs, neurological exams—but no one could give me an answer. The scans came back normal, yet my body told a different story. I was trapped inside myself—half my body unresponsive, doctors baffled, and fear creeping in that I might never feel or move the same again.

But giving up has never been in my DNA.

Lying in that hospital bed, alone and terrified, I realized that I couldn’t afford to stay broken. My small business— that I built with my hands and heart—depends on me. My customers depend on me. My kids and family depend on me.

So I started fighting back.

I forced myself to move, inch by inch, hour by hour—lifting my arm, flexing my leg—teaching my body to obey me again. It was painful, exhausting, and at times, humiliating. But I told myself: You have cakes to make. You have markets to show up for. You have people and pups who believe in you.

After almost a week in the hospital, I left with full movement but no feeling on my left side. Even now, I can’t feel pain or temperature properly—meaning I bruise, cut, and even burn myself without realizing it. Yet I keep going. I’ve learned to work carefully, to adapt, to smile through it, and to keep Wet Nose Treats alive because it’s more than a business—it’s a reflection of love, creativity, and resilience.

But recovery isn’t just physical—it’s financial.

I now face unexpected medical bills, lost income from missed markets, and the daily expenses of running a small business while healing. It’s humbling to admit that I can’t do it all alone, but I believe that community and compassion are stronger than any setback.

I’m asking for your help to raise $10,000 to cover:

• Medical and therapy expenses

• Rent and utilities for my shop

• Materials and supplies to keep Wet Nose Treats going during recovery

• Essential bills while I regain full health

Your support—whether a donation or simply sharing this page—means helping a woman rebuild after being knocked down. It’s helping a small business survive. It’s helping me continue creating healthy, handmade treats for the dogs that bring joy to so many families.

Every contribution, no matter the size, helps me move one step closer to stability and recovery.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for standing with me through this chapter.

I’ll keep fighting, healing, and baking—with love, purpose, and gratitude for everyone who chooses to be part of this journey.

Because this is not the end of my story.

It’s just the beginning of my comeback.