Sometimes life puts us in situations we’re never truly prepared for — this is one of those times.

My name is Neil, and I’m writing to share the story of my incredible mom, Minel.

She’s 51 years old — a single mother who raised me on her own since the age of 17. She’s a licensed pharmacist, a loving Lola to my son, and the strongest person I know.

But our life changed forever on November 20, 2001, when my mom was diagnosed with end-stage renal disease (Kidney Failure). She was born with smaller kidneys than normal, and by the time she was diagnosed, her condition was already severe.

Thankfully, my brave aunt — her younger sister — donated one of her kidneys so my mom could undergo a transplant. I was only 10 years old at the time, too young to understand how close I came to losing her. The transplant was a success, and her doctors assured us that with proper diet and medication, she could live a normal life. It felt like a miracle.

She recovered, went back to work, and continued to support me through school. Life felt normal again.

In 2014, she became a grandmother — and I saw her light up with joy and renewed energy. But just two years later, in September 2016, we received heartbreaking news: her transplanted kidney was failing. Again.

We returned to the National Kidney Institute and learned that she would either need another transplant or begin lifetime dialysis treatment. I immediately offered to be her donor — we were a 90% match — but she refused. She told me I had a young family and a future to think about, and she didn’t want me to make that sacrifice.

Complications with her heart made the transplant impossible, so she began dialysis three times a week, a treatment she continues to this day — for 9 long years now. She had to stop working, and life became a constant physical and emotional battle.

Then, just a few months ago — in May 2025 — another challenge hit us. She slipped and fell while doing laundry. At first, she said she was okay, but the pain worsened until she could barely walk. We later found out she had fractured her left hip and needed a total hip replacement.

On May 15, she underwent surgery and survived. We were relieved and hopeful. But during her follow-up check-up, we discovered she would need another hip replacement on the right side — this time due to brittle bones caused by low calcium levels, a complication from years of dialysis.

It broke her spirit. For the first time, she told me she wanted to give up.

We began the clearance process again in July, but her vitals weren’t stable enough for surgery. She had to undergo multiple procedures first: a vena cava filter surgery to prevent blood clots, and knee traction to correct leg misalignment. These were extremely painful for her — physically and emotionally.

On August 11, we finally got the go-ahead for surgery. She was scheduled for her right hip replacement on August 12. At 12:22 PM, she was brought into the operating room.

But then, the worst happened.

After the operation, in the recovery room, my mom went into cardiac arrest. She had no pulse, no heartbeat. The doctors performed CPR for 27 agonizing minutes. We were preparing for the worst… until a miracle happened — her heart started beating again.

She was rushed to the ICU, where she spent four days. She was responsive, able to communicate by writing, and fully aware of what had happened. She fought hard.

As of August 21, 2025, we are still in the hospital. She's stable now, but she needs more tests and continued care to ensure she fully recovers and doesn't return to the hospital anytime soon.

________________________________________

I’m sharing all of this to show you the strength and courage my mom has shown from 2001 to 2025 — fighting for her life over and over again.

And now, I’m humbly asking for your help.

We are raising funds to cover her medical expenses, post-surgery care, and continued dialysis treatments. Your support — no matter how small — will help give her a chance to heal, to rest, and to smile again like she used to.

If you can help in any way — through donations, prayers, or simply by sharing this story — we would be forever grateful.

From one son's heart to yours — thank you for reading, for caring, and for standing with us in this fight.