My name is Rebecca, and this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to share. I’ve been independent my entire life, and I never imagined I would need to ask for help — especially not like this. In May 2025, I went to my doctor after sudden falls, right-side weakness, loss of hand coordination, and trouble walking. I was admitted to Prisma Memorial Hospital for six days to rule out a stroke. When the MRI didn’t show one, I was told my symptoms were “functional weakness” and to eat better, find hobbies, and see a therapist. I was discharged with no diagnosis, even though my symptoms were getting worse.

For the next year, I fought for answers. I saw multiple Prisma specialists while my condition rapidly declined: over 10 major falls, three ER visits with broken bones and a torn rotator cuff, complete loss of function in my dominant right hand, inability to walk without holding onto walls, loss of driving privileges, inability to work, wiping out my savings, and dependence on Uber and in-home help. In February, I paid for a new MRI and found a new neurologist. He compared it to my MRI from last June — and everything that is now severe was already visible a year ago. It was simply missed. My diagnosis: Degenerative Multiregional Myelopathy with severe cervical spinal cord compression (C3–C7). I now need emergency spinal cord decompression surgery outside the Prisma network due to the failed diagnosis and worsening damage.

I am a 56-year-old optometry nurse who once lived a full, active life — work, friends, Georgia Bulldogs games, Taylor Swift concerts, gym life, and financial stability. I have no parents, no partner, and very little family support. I am doing this alone. This is urgent. I need surgery as soon as next week.

Even after my insurance paid, I am left with significant medical debt. Over the past year, I have accumulated debt and have depleted all of my savings. A hospital social worker told me that the minimum cost for my spinal cord surgery and post-operative care is substantial. This number may seem high, but it’s actually a conservative estimate — the true cost is likely even greater. I am asking for help to cover these expenses so I can move forward with life-changing care.

If you can donate any amount, it will help me get closer to life-changing care. If you can’t donate, please share my story with the Swiftie community, the UGA family, and anyone who might help. Thank you for reading.