Help Latasha Walk Again: Fighting Lupus and Polymyositis

Hello, my name is Latasha.

I’m a 34-year-old truck driver and a proud mother to my amazing 13-year-old son, London, who has special needs. Life hasn’t always been easy, but I’ve always worked hard to provide for my family. However, everything changed on December 7th.

That morning, I woke up feeling stiff. What started as a mild discomfort quickly escalated. Over the next few days, my body became so weak and rigid that I could no longer walk. By December 13th, I was tested for an autoimmune disease, though no clear diagnosis was given.

Things worsened rapidly. By December 22nd, I was in the hospital, overwhelmed with severe muscle weakness, liver pain, and barely able to move. I spent Christmas in a hospital bed, unable to enjoy the holiday with my son.

On January 2nd, I was referred to a rheumatologist for more testing. By January 14th, after 43 days of fear and uncertainty, my GI specialist and rheumatologist came together to figure out what was wrong. That’s when I was diagnosed with polymyositis—a rare autoimmune disease that causes extreme muscle inflammation and weakness—and lupus.

Today, I can no longer walk, use my arms, or perform the basic tasks we so often take for granted, like getting dressed or holding my son. I’m still in the hospital, waiting to start rehabilitation in hopes of regaining my mobility and independence.

As a contractor in the trucking industry, I’ve lost my job and income. With no way to work, I’m struggling to keep up with mounting medical bills, IV treatments, everyday expenses, and the costs of raising my son.

This has been the most challenging experience of my life. Watching my son struggle to process what’s happening to me is heartbreaking. He’s my world, and I want nothing more than to heal and be there for him the way he needs me to be.

I’m reaching out today to ask for your support. Your kindness can help me access the treatments I need, keep a roof over our heads, and provide stability for my son while I fight to recover.

No contribution is too small—every dollar makes a difference. Even sharing my story with others can help us get closer to brighter days.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story, for your prayers, and for any support you can give. Your generosity means more than I could ever put into words.

With love and gratitude,

Latasha