Sarah's Fund for a Life Changing Raven

My name is Sarah Leschinsky, and my mobility challenges make me feel old at the ripe age of twenty-eight. This is a challenge, as I’m someone who holds herself to a very high standard, whether it’s in my work as a buyer for our family-run puzzle and board game store, my sculptural art, or in the relationships I hold with those around me. I find great joy in witty humor, upbeat pop music, board games, and losing myself in a good book. I have been blessed with an incredible support network of people: from my boyfriend of five years, who frequently tells me how thankful he is for me, to our two-year-old ragdoll cat Chamomile who loves a game of fetch, to my family who I have Shabbat with every week.

However, when I walk around the world, I often walk through it alone. I take public transit and need to sit in the accessible seating by myself, I go to stores by myself, and I often end up working from home in my lonely apartment. Having a service dog would let me not feel alone as I move through the world. I would be in pain, but there would always be someone with me. A service dog would not only assist with my physical difficulties around moving, but also the anxiety I still carry around others watching me move when I’m struggling—though I’ve done countless hours of work since childhood in therapy on working through that anxiety. Due to using a cane, I can no longer tell myself that it’s all in my head. After copious research and many attempts at following potential leads and pathways to a service dog partnership, I was able to connect with Hub City K9 Training. They paired me with Raven, an incredibly special and bright service dog in training who has already begun learning the specific tasks to support my mobility and psychiatric needs and will be able to come home to me in Boston at the end of December.

I’m asking for help, for compassion and kindness from friends, family, and strangers alike to support this journey to bring Raven home to me and help change my life. I walk with new weight after my Fibromyalgia diagnosis, and I know that despite trying multiple treatment pathways, my pain is going to continue, and with that, my mental health issues will continue to worsen. My everyday life has changed, and my independence has been cut down. And so my dreams have to change—Raven is my pathway to moving forward with my dreams, and I’m asking for anything you can give, even $5, to help me achieve them.

MY STORY

Most people don’t know that chronic pain quite literally rewires your brain over time, so that any minute level of pain (like a paper cut or a small bruise from a stubbed toe) becomes magnified to the amount of pain usually felt from serious muscle strain or a fractured bone. Neurons become worn out as the front region of the cortex, the emotional center of the brain, fails to deactivate when it should. Worsening pain becomes the default response to anything and activates the sympathetic nervous system; the body moves into the fight or flight response. But you cannot fight or escape your own body. This prolonged agitated state worsens other aspects of health as well. Agitation in the sympathetic nervous system becomes emotional agitation as well. This makes me constantly tired, frustrated, angry, and sadder than my normal level of sadness—a norm that for my entire life has already been considered unusual. My ability to focus on my art, my job, and my relationships is lost to this mix of difficult emotions, and for a while, the outlook of my life felt incredibly bleak.

Despite the fact I have a strong and loving support network surrounding me, when I’m in severe pain it’s hard find the words and organize my emotions to connect into that network; it is incredibly isolating. I walk with a cane to alleviate pressure on my left leg to reduce pain and numbness, which causes people to look at me, and I have overheard strangers ask each other, “what’s wrong with her, she doesn’t look disabled.” It’s never a comfortable feeling to have others looking at you, but this has been a lifelong battle for me. As a child, I could barely even walk into a school building, and if I was inside, I would hide in a bathroom stall so that no one could see any part of me, not even my feet. Often, it felt like the hallways were three times as long as they actually were, filled with people who were watching me. Due to intense depression, I often was unable to attend class let alone complete assignments, and often felt like I was simply moving through alternating periods of depression and anxiety which ruled my life. In middle school this progressed into a month-long hospitalization after a four month spiral. My treatment during that hospitalization gave me the beginning tools and coping mechanisms that I have cultivated and still use. I continued my treatment for my anxiety and depression by going to a psychiatric high school.

My time in college was not easy, marked by acute episodes of depression and anxiety, but it was there I found and fell in love with art conservation during a semester abroad in Italy. I loved it so much that after graduation I went abroad again there for a Post Baccalaureate in Art Conservation in 2019, which due to the pandemic I had to finish from home in 2020. This triggered a deep depression once more, and right when I began to claw my way to the surface, I began experiencing mobility issues due to chronic pain. In the past year, I have had more X-rays than I have ever had in my entire life because the level of pain I was reporting was in line with that of seriously strained muscles and fractured bones.

I tell my friends when I get up and do my laundry now, or make a salad, because it brings me that level of excitement to accomplish what to others is just a standard weekly chore, but to me can feel like an insurmountable task. Between my chronic pain and the already present mental health issues it worsens, I often struggle to make it to work, go out to see my family and friends, and though in the future I want to return to school to continue learning about art conservation, I’ve felt completely unable to continue with those plans because I’m working through tackling just getting through each day. I miss making art, I miss not feeling like my chronic pain is my defining feature. I’ve tried and continue to participate in therapy, physical therapy (including aquatic therapy), multiple medications, TMS, and have even talked about experimental treatments. It feels like my life is a constant cycle of moving through periods of depression and anxiety that I can never fully escape, which is worsened by the pain. Every time I begin to feel slightly better, I feel like I’m looking over my shoulder and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Pain medication only works for so long before the body begins to adapt to it, and it simply isn’t sustainable to continue to take higher and higher doses, or to have to switch to new medications (with new side effects) when one begins to fail, and trust that they’ll make things better. I want to reach for something better, I want to take a moment to breathe and give myself grace instead of hyper-analyzing any time that I begin to struggle, to the point that I work myself up into being unable to do anything at all. The coping skills that I’ve used for decades are failing me, and it often leads me to worry that I’m failing others, even though I know that they love me and want to support me through this. I feel like I’m exhausting all possible avenues and trying my absolute hardest to manage what is feeling increasingly unmanageable without additional help.

FINDING A SERVICE DOG

After learning that my pain would not be going away but will instead be a lifelong management plan, I started thinking about the possibility of a service dog. This is a very serious decision as the relationship between a handler and her service dog is one of mutual care and dedication. I finalized this decision when halfway through a day out with friends, I could barely move to get to a train stop a few blocks away.

I have a close friend who is a service dog handler herself. On one occasion her dog noticed my pain and put her head on my lap with no prompting. She also allowed me to lean on her to walk to our car. I felt incredibly seen and supported in that moment. Any pet owner knows that there’s something about an animal looking at you and being able to intuit that you need comfort, without prompting, that brings joy. Service dogs have not only that ability to intuit, but to provide direct assistance. In one study, it was even found that after spending just twelve minutes with a service dog, patients experienced a decrease in pain, fatigue, and emotional distress—all with a boost in endorphins.

I began researching pathways to getting a service dog for myself, of which there are three main ones:

1. The Best Option: Applying to a program that has funding and places a service dog for free. These programs are generally reserved for children & veterans, but the need for these dogs is far greater than the number of available dogs. My applications were turned down. One program wrote “even though your need is great and we believe that you would greatly benefit we do not have enough dogs”.

2. Private Programs Paid Out of Pocket: These programs frequently cost $25,000-$45,000, and usually take open applications. The wait for these programs is roughly 2+ years, and there’s no guarantee that after that wait that you’ll be matched with a dog. An applicant is matched with a dog based on what dogs they currently have and what their skills are, not the order in which a person applied.

3. Finding a Prospect & Self-Training or Program Training: This route would mean looking at puppies and dogs with service potential and starting their obedience/basic training from scratch. You can either do this process completely on your own with some professional assistance or you can send them to a ‘board-and-train’ program (i.e., where they will live elsewhere and be trained). This ranges from $0 if you can service train an animal on your own to upwards of $10,000 if you cannot (and most people can’t, hence the high cost). You need a professional to evaluate the dog or puppy before you get it, which involves the current caretaker of the dog taking specific videos for the evaluator. Even after the evaluation, the length of training time is variable and success is not guaranteed. If the dog fails, you then have to make the heart-breaking choice of whether to keep that dog after so much bonding and/or start the process again.

For most of the past year I have been scouring the country for prospective dogs that have had basic obedience training and some public access exposure, but I know that despite reading and research, dog training is an area I have almost no experience in, not to mention the additional specialized training that a service dog needs. However, through countless hours of searching I discovered Hub City Elite K9 Training, a training program run by Hannah Patterson, a dog trainer who trained her own service dog and has a passion for helping make service dogs more accessible and affordable to those who need them. Her goal is to give a rescue dog a new life while giving the new handler a new outlook on life. This seemed a mission so perfect that I was scared to believe it could happen for me. Right after I reached out to Hannah, she told me she had one service dog that she thought would be perfect for me—and so I was introduced to Raven.

RAVEN’s Training

Raven is an enthusiastic almost 8-month rescue who has completed socialization and service training with Cassie Hollingsworth, who began training animals at a young age before training her own service dog. Cassie and Hannah described Raven’s drive to work, the speed she picked up training, and her happy personality to me, and the three of us feel that she could and would really be a partner in life for me. I discussed with Cassie what additional tasks Raven could be trained to do to provide support specialized to me.

Raven is currently learning how to brace and do “forward momentum pull.” When I am in extreme pain, I have a hard time moving forward. This training allows me to put some of my weight on her, like leaning on a cane, which alleviates pressure and pain in my body. However, while a cane can help me alleviate pressure and provide stability, it cannot propel me forward, but Raven can. When my symptoms are severe enough, it’s not a matter of how far I can walk, but simply just getting to a safe location. Mobility training is also incredibly helpful when moving up and down stairs, something that I must do multiple times daily at work in order to reach my desk.

Because Raven is still growing, I will have to wait about a year before I can put my weight on her. Getting her now means that we will be able to spend the maximum amount of time together as a matched pair, and her training is such that as soon as she is physically ready for this task full-time, she will already be mentally prepared to do it.

To help me move through crowds more easily with my cane or when I’m going through acute emotional distress, she knows to circle around me, clearing space. She is also trained to tuck under things like tables and chairs, so that she can be out of the way as we move through the city, such as when I’m at work or commuting on public transit. She knows deep pressure therapy (when she therapeutically puts her body on me) which can alleviate pain and intense frustration or emotional distress before a downward spiral can occur. Raven is also being trained to do tasks that while they might seem small, will make a big difference to me: picking up my cane, turning on and off the lights, and retrieving my heating pad.

Team Training

At the end of October, my boyfriend Ben and I flew down to Florida for a week to meet Cassie & Raven, and to begin team training. Team training allowed me to learn from Cassie the commands she has been using, but also allowed Raven to become accustomed to working with me—navigating around my space, my cane, hearing my voice, and reading my body language. This training (for me much more than Raven) is the most important thing we can do to set ourselves up for future success, but it also proved to me that Raven and I will be the dynamic duo that I’ve dreamed of.

When I worked with Raven, I felt like at least a third of my daily pain was relieved, which in turn lessened a substantial emotional weight I had been carrying around. Usually, at around 4,000 steps a day (thank you step counter), I am numb and in too much pain to walk around. While working with Raven, at 7,000 steps, I still felt capable of walking around and continuing about my day. I was finally able to feel some freedom and independence around movement I had not felt in over a year and a half. She brings me such indescribable hope for the future and joy at the present-day steps I am taking to improve my life.

After the time I spent with Cassie and Raven, I have even more confidence in training being a skill that you need to learn before you even have a dog. Service training is meticulous; the movement of your hands, the timing in redirection, the words you use, and the tone you use all come into play. Just learning how to hold the leash properly and handle her in a way that does not confuse her is a challenge I worked through during our partner training trip. In the future, I’d like to be able to expand Raven’s repertoire. Currently though, I do not have the confidence or training to do it on my own. My goals and dreams have been on hold and I have doubted my ability to move forward with my planned path. I want to move forward, and I firmly believe that Raven will help me do that.

COST BREAKDOWN

I’m reaching out with this GoFundMe now because while this is a hopeful path forward, it is also an expensive one. While I wish we lived in a world where any of this would be covered through health insurance, while this is one of the most promising things I can do to improve my health and my life, I am unable to receive any help from my or any other, insurance for it. The initial cost of a service dog and all this specialized and team training is high, and on top of that, there is the cost of equipment (such as a mobility harness), and continued training after she comes home to me in Boston, MA.

We Are Trying to Raise Money For:

- Raven: $12,000 with 3 transfer lessons (to get her acclimated) and half cost of lessons for life

- Transportation of Raven from Florida to Boston: $750

- Health screening, future spaying, x-rays for mobility work: $1,200

- Supplies: $400

- Team training in Florida (travel, food, amenities): $2,200

Total: $16,550

MY DREAM & A THANK YOU

I envision Raven sitting under my desk at work while I discover new board games and puzzles, her riding with me on the bus in the morning as I head to the store, and Raven coming to Shabbat dinners at my parent’s house. I see her in my apartment in Boston, playing with our cat Chamomile (her ‘little big sister’), bringing me my heating pad while I work on a new sculpture, and putting her head in my lap when I become anxious. I want to wake up in the morning, take a deep breath, and feel excited about the day, ready to confidently move forward through life with Raven at my side, supporting me with each step I take.

I dream of being able to help with the conservation and restoration of sacred sculptures all over the world, assisting in preserving important history and protecting cultural heritage sites, working to keep the art local and connected with the community. You must work on-site in object and sculpture conservation, which might involve short hikes on a mountain and long days. When I dream of this now, I see Raven at my side, helping support me along this journey, walking with me in the woods, lying next to my feet while I work on temples, and curling up with me at the end of a long day.

The time you took to read this means the world to me. If you are unable to help with a small contribution, I would just as much appreciate it if you could share it with someone who may be able to. It is hard to share this kind of information about myself. Still, I hope that with every person who reads this, the conversations of de-stigmatizing mental health and mental health’s connection to our physical well-being spread. Thank you so much.

Sincerely,

Sarah