Help Us Keep Our Home While I Face Brain Surgery

Just weeks ago, I was working and caring for my 7-year-old son, Leo. Now, my life has stopped completely. I have been diagnosed with severe Chiari Malformation Type 1/1.5/2 — a serious brain condition compressing my brain and spine, causing dangerous pressure, swelling and Dysautonomia. My symptoms — crushing headaches, dizziness, vision problems, temporary vision loss, nerve pain, immense sickness and nausea, balance issues, fluid buildup, and skull/neck/coat-hanger swelling — have made it impossible to work or manage daily life. My doctors say I will most likely need at least one brain surgery very soon to prevent permanent damage, with extensive physical therapy required for recovery.

I have fought illness for 19 years, but with this Chiari, so much in my life has changed. Every day, my body betrays me in ways no one can fully see or understand. I have spent years seeking answers, traveling through five states, sitting in ERs, and pleading for help — looking for a surgeon experienced with Chiari Malformation. Even when I find one, it could take months, all while my symptoms worsen and my life shrinks further.

This illness has already taken so much from me — my energy, independence, and sense of safety in my own body. I have had to put my pride aside and ask for help in ways I never imagined, because this is that serious. And yet, despite it all, I keep fighting. I have helped others navigate their own medical journeys, guiding them toward diagnoses and understanding, even when I had not yet received clarity for myself. I have spent my life fighting — not just for me, but for those who needed my experience, my knowledge, and my advocacy.

I teach my son, Leo. He is advanced, brilliant, and full of life, and I fight every day to keep up with him. But even cooking a meal or washing dishes leaves me utterly exhausted. Cleaning, vacuuming, laundry, driving — all these things, simple for most, feel like impossible mountains I must climb, only to collapse afterward. Washing my hair now comes with detrimental effects, triggering intense head and neck pain regardless of water temperature. I cannot look at my phone or screens for long. Looking down, even briefly, triggers pain. Exposure to sun and heat is unbearable — even umbrellas only partially help. My hands, face, ears, and neck swell without warning. My toes, so sensitive, react to socks or enclosed shoes. Writing, arm use, and repetitive tasks cause pain.

I struggle with food freezes, unexplained fat storage, glucose dysregulation, multi-nutritional anemia, increased hunger, neuropathic pain, and chest tightness separate from Chiari-related musculoskeletal issues. Even small tasks like shaving the back of my head by taking all the baby hairs off, has helped mildly to regulate temperature. Driving, even for short distances, often means I have to rest immediately after. Cooking, laundry, cleaning, and other household tasks all require help or leave me debilitated.

The urgency is extreme. I am facing the possibility of brain surgery to regain control of my health, and some weeks require appointments every day, sometimes multiple appointments in a single day, along with labs, scans, and treatments — making it impossible to hold even a part-time job. My independence has been stripped away, and my daily life is dictated by doctors’ schedules. This condition will never go away; it is lifelong. Now that it has reached this severity, even with surgery, my life and capabilities are profoundly altered.

Despite all this, I continue to fight. Because giving up is not an option. I fight through the pain, the fatigue, the uncertainty, and the sheer weight of a body that refuses to cooperate.

We urgently need help covering our mortgage, truck and trailer payments, basic bills, and uncovered medical costs before and after surgery. Any amount — $1, $5, $50, $100 — will go directly to keeping a roof over our heads and holding on to what little stability we have left while I fight to recover. Your kindness right now could be the reason we make it through this without losing everything, and give me a chance to focus fully on recovery.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and for supporting our family during this incredibly difficult time.

— XOXO Laurena