This is my mother, Nilam Shrestha. She's 72, a former teacher, and the mother of three. Anyone who has known her will tell you the same thing: she is one of the most resilient people they've ever met — a woman with an incredibly high pain threshold, both physical and emotional, who somehow still finds a way to smile through it all. Her doctors call her the most disciplined patient they've worked with.

Her journey so far:

Mom was diagnosed with avascular necrosis (AVN), a condition where bone tissue dies from lack of blood supply, leading to joint collapse. Last year, this required total replacement of both her hips; it took four separate surgeries due to complications and infections along the way. She got through every one of them.

Now, the same condition has severely damaged her shoulders, and her doctors say shoulder replacement surgery is necessary for her to have any real relief from pain and a chance at independence again.

What I've learned as her caregiver:

As her daughter and caregiver, one of the hardest things I've had to accept is that I cannot take her pain away myself. When it gets severe, all I can do is give her the opioids her doctors have prescribed. But at her age, long-term use of strong painkillers carries real risks. We worry about what it could do to her kidneys over time. We've looked into steroids as an alternative too, but they carry similar long-term concerns. Surgery is the only path that actually addresses the source of her pain, rather than just managing it. I want her to live the rest of her life with dignity — smiling, present, and free from both pain and the depression that chronic pain has brought.

Why we're asking for help:

My mother doesn't have health insurance. So far, my family has covered all her medical and surgical bills ourselves. This final surgery — hopefully her last — is beyond what we can take on alone. Based on quotes from her surgical team, we need *$8,000 USD* to cover:

- Shoulder replacement surgery

- Hospital stay

- Post-operative physical therapy

- Home care during recovery

- Medications

- Lost wages, since I'm her primary caregiver and had to stop working to care for her

A little about me:

I'm her daughter, and I've been by her side through every surgery so far. I've had to pause my own studies to be here for her — not just for the physical care she needs, but because at this stage, she needs someone present emotionally, too. I don't regret it, but it's part of why we're asking for help now. I'm reaching out because we're close to the finish line, and I don't want cost to be the reason she doesn't get there.

Any contribution, big or small, brings her closer to a life with less pain. Thank you for reading her story and for anything you're able to give.