Support Alycia Keating's Journey to Freedom

Hi. Let me make it REALLY clear: I hate asking for money. I've always found a way to pay my own way. But I'm in trouble now.

My name is Alycia Keating. In July of 2022, I was strolling along the sidewalk in Port Jeff. As I turned around to head back to my ferry, I fell. Hard. Over the next two weeks, I fell 6 more times. Multiple ER visits turned up no cause.

It took 4 months to get in to see a neurologist, by which time, I relied upon a cane, and my balance was shot. He (mis)diagnosed peripheral neuropathy from having had chemotherapy years ago. He told me the damage was reversible.

My balance, and now strength, kept getting worse over the weeks and months. In February of 2023, I got forearm crutches because two sticks were better than one when the ground was uneven. Then I got a rollator for shopping and other adventures. The rollator became more and more necessary. The cane and the crutches were no longer enough.

Then in July of 2024, I rear-ended the car in front of mine at a drive-thru. Luckily there was no damage, but replaying the accident in my head, I realized it was because I couldn't get my foot to the brakes in time.

I stopped driving that day. This was a huge blow. I love to drive! Road trips, fun weekends away...all gone. I called the doctor, crying, "You said this could get better! When does it get better?"

At that point, my strength was evaporating by midday, and I was spending half my days lying down.

He sent me to the ER to get an MRI. This was late August 2024. In October, I went back to the hospital, this time for a mass of tests. I stopped counting what they were testing for when I reached 104. In total, I had 5 MRIs, 3 CT scans, 2 lumbar punctures (aka "spinal taps"), a spinal cord biopsy, a nerve conduction study, and no answers.

They discharged me to a nursing home for rehab. I had walked (barely) into the hospital on Nov 8, 2024. I had to be carried on a stretcher into the rehab.

In the rehab, when it became clear that whatever was wrong with me was getting worse, and that I was not going to walk, they discharged me home. No help, no equipment except a rental bed, commode, and wheelchair.

I have to change myself, change my own linens, and use a reacher stick for everything. I don't have home health aides as I don't qualify. My housemate is NOT my caregiver. He's nice enough to bring up my meals and plunk me down in my wheelchair, but he's stressed out even by that.

I was not able to transfer myself into the wheelchair from bed, so Dr. ordered me a Hoyer lift (kind of like a winch that hauls you up in a sling like you're a sack of potatoes). A local charity has lent me another Hoyer lift for downstairs. I spent all of my money on an electric stair glide so I could get up and down.

So, I can now get out of bed, I can get downstairs, but I can't get outside! I can't get to see my doctors! My neurologist, my urologist, my PCP: and me with some definite health concerns and no way to address them.

Six steps - no way around it, I need 22 feet of wheelchair ramp. No one covers it. I don't qualify for Medicaid, as they think I'm too rich (That's actually pretty funny). Not Medicare. There are no programs or charities that address it. And an ambulance ride is $1000 unless I am admitted to the hospital.

So here I am. Stuck in bed mostly. I would love to go outside and feed the birds, putter around my garden. Get a little sunlight. Make sure that my beautiful roses don't get blackspot or aphids. I'd love to get that MRI to see if maybe I can finally get a diagnosis. But I can't.

Not alone. I need help. You cannot imagine how wonderful it would be to wake up and decide to just go food shopping, or make a doctor's appointment.

I need your help. Would you please donate something, anything, no matter how small, to my little Wheelchair Ramp Fund?

Thankyou, and may Heaven smile on you.

Alycia Keating