I never imagined my life would turn into this.

Just months ago, I was trying to push through the pain and live as normally as I could. I held onto hope that things would get better—that this was temporary. I had no idea my life was about to completely fall apart.

In December, everything changed. I spent a week in a hospital in New Mexico, where I was given a diagnosis I had never even heard of—MALS. A rare, devastating condition with no cure as well as being put on oxygen 24/7.

Since coming back to Oklahoma, that diagnosis has been confirmed again and again. And the truth is… it’s so much worse than anything you can read about. This disease is relentless. It steals your body, your strength, your life.

On February 2nd, I was admitted to OU for surgery—desperate for relief, desperate for hope. That surgery failed. Instead of getting better, I got worse. Doctors had to place a central line in my chest that goes directly into my heart so I could start TPN, because my body can no longer handle food. Something so basic, something so human—eating—is now impossible for me.

Weeks turned into hospital stays filled with complications, fear, and pain that I don’t even have words for. Then on March 5th, I went through another major surgery—a bypass. I held onto hope with everything I had left in me. But when I woke up, I was told the truth… it wasn’t successful. My condition was far worse than they expected. One of the worst cases they’ve ever seen.

There is no fixing this. No cure. No relief waiting at the end.

I am now facing a lifetime of moderate to severe pain.

I am two weeks into my third hospitalization. My body is struggling just to survive. The only thing keeping me alive right now is TPN—nutrition going straight into my bloodstream through a line in my chest, into my heart. I am completely dependent on it. My body is no longer something I recognize. It feels like it’s failing me piece by piece.

Doctors told me there was only one surgeon in Oklahoma with experience in this condition. My chances of making it through surgery were low. I had to face the very real possibility that I might not come home to my family.

I did survive… but not without losing so much of myself.

Now I live in constant, unrelenting pain—even with strong medications. There is no break from it. No moment of normal. Just pain, exhaustion, and the quiet fear that this is my forever.

I am trying so hard to be strong. But the truth is, this has broken me in ways I can’t explain.

I miss my life. I miss getting to be an active Gramma. I feel like I've been cheated out of being a Gramma...

I miss being present for my family. I miss feeling like myself. I miss the little things—things I never thought twice about before. And the hardest part… is not knowing what my future looks like anymore.

This has taken everything from me—physically, emotionally, and financially. I can no longer work. I can’t care for my family the way I used to. The medical bills keep coming, and the weight of it all is overwhelming.

I feel scared. I feel lost. And I feel completely helpless.

I’m sharing this because I don’t have another option. I need help.

Your support will go toward my medical care, ongoing treatments, and the possibility of traveling for specialized care—because I’m still holding onto hope, even if it feels small. It will also help my family stay afloat while I fight through the hardest battle of my life.

Right now, I am fighting for everything.

I am fighting to survive.

I am fighting to find even a small piece of relief.

I am fighting for more time… for my family… for my life.

If you can donate, share, or even just keep me in your thoughts and prayers, it would mean more than I could ever put into words.

Because on my hardest days… your kindness is the only thing that reminds me I’m not alone .

Thank you for standing with me in this fight.