My name is Rachid Kara, I am 28 years old, and this is my story. It all began in February 2022, when vomiting became more and more frequent. At the time, I didn’t have a family doctor, so I consulted several general practitioners who tried to treat my symptoms, but none were able to identify the real cause. It wasn’t until August 2022 that I finally obtained a family doctor, who ordered several medical tests. That’s when I received the diagnosis: achalasia, a rare disease of the esophagus that prevents food from passing normally into the stomach. It is painful, exhausting, and deeply disabling on a daily basis. Shortly after, in September 2022, I lost my construction job because my health condition had become impossible to manage. In October 2022, I received my first treatment: a Botox injection into the lower esophageal sphincter, in the hope of relieving my symptoms. Unfortunately, the relief was only temporary. A year later, in October 2023, I finally had a preoperative appointment—which consisted of nothing more than a blood test. Then, on January 12, 2024, I underwent a Heller myotomy, a surgery that was supposed to be done laparoscopically but instead turned into a laparotomy (open surgery), which is far more invasive. I was sent home in severe pain, unable to walk or even lie down properly. Less than 24 hours later, I was found on the floor, curled up in unbearable pain. I called an ambulance—despite being only 3 km away—but waited over an hour before my vital signs were taken, which were considered “normal.” Upon arriving at the hospital, I was given multiple painkillers and rushed for an emergency CT scan. The result: a probable stomach torsion. I was urgently transferred to the CHUM hospital for a second surgery. But the situation was far worse. During the first operation, my stomach was perforated in two places without the surgical team realizing it. Gastric fluids leaked into my abdomen, triggering septic shock. My vital organs began to fail one by one. An emergency surgery was performed to drain the fluid and close the holes in my stomach, leaving me with a 20 cm scar across my abdomen. I was placed in a coma and transferred to the intensive care unit for several weeks, connected to multiple machines. And it didn’t stop there. The infected fluid exposed me to a drug-resistant bacteria. Two drains were inserted into my back to evacuate the fluid. Throughout this time, I was deprived of both food and water—a true form of torture. Today, more than a year later, I am back at square one: still unable to eat normally, still sick, weakened, and without any income. This experience has been traumatic—both physically and mentally. I am still recovering and unable to return to stable employment. Expenses continue to pile up, which is why I am reaching out today. Any help—small or large—would be a breath of fresh air in this difficult battle. Thank you for taking the time to read my story, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support.