Five years ago, our lives changed overnight when our sister Sandra suffered a devastating stroke and traumatic brain injury. Within 2 hours, she endured a brain aneurysm, a seizure, 2 heart attacks, and a stroke. Thankfully her sister and her cousin, who are nurses, were with her and acted quickly to get her help.

21 days in a coma, an intubation, a pulmonary embolism, a collapsed lung, 3 hospitals, and 9 months later, she came home. For a year, she used a feeding tube, but got out of it.

She’s been steadily improving.

Before that day, Sandra was vibrant, creative, outspoken, outgoing, and full of life. She was the person always smiling largely, always talking, always bringing energy into a room. She spoke honestly — sometimes maybe too honestly/bluntly — but never from a place of unkindness. She was always trying to uncover truths that would yield improvement.

She had a good heart, a strong personality, and a deep love for her family. She still does.

She loved celebrating others and loved being celebrated too! Gifts are her love language.

Sandra was also incredibly talented. She designed and handcrafted beautiful Haitian jewelry and fashion pieces, creating art that reflected culture, beauty, resourcefulness, and resilience. She also held degrees in Small Business Administration and Diplomacy.

When her stroke happened, her children were only 17, 15, and 13 years old.

Over the last five years, our family has done everything possible to care for Sandra while also helping raise her teenagers and keep life together around an unimaginable/unexpected situation. We all became caregivers overnight while still balancing work, life, children, spouses, and other responsibilities.

In the beginning, we had a larger support system. Extended family and friends helped rotate shifts, sit/talk with her, send her supplies, pray for/with her, and give us moments to breathe. Over time — and understandably so — that support has dwindled tremendously. This is not said with blame or resentment. We are still incredibly grateful for the support we received in the early days. Life continues for everyone, and long-term caregiving is difficult, demanding, and exhausting. Today, the reality is that we are down to a skeleton crew, holding on as best we can.

At this point, we are running on fumes emotionally, physically, and financially.

Sandra’s children are now young adults trying to build lives while still helping support their mother however they can — one is serving in the Navy, one is in the Marines, and one is in her sophomore year in college.

Despite everything, Sandra continues to show strength and she’s holding on as best she can. Some days her depression is overwhelming and palpable, other days she sasses us, and gives us hope to keep going.

We’ve done all we can, but we can’t give her what she really needs, which is intensive rehabilitative therapy.

When we consistently have the time and energy to exercise with her, work on mobility, encourage movement, practice core strengthening, and support therapy routines, we see improvement. She responds positively.

But consistency is where we fail. Life, work (2-3 jobs each for 3 of us), kids, aging parents, etc. something always gets in the way.

We are working multiple jobs simply to maintain basic care. Sandra unfortunately does not qualify for Medicare or Medicaid assistance because her stroke happened only weeks after arriving in the country with her green card. Because of that, nearly every aspect of her care has fallen entirely on her siblings and children.

We are now reaching the difficult point where assisted living is becoming one of the only remaining options — an option we can barely afford, and one we are very reluctantly considering.

But before we reach that point, we are asking for help to give Sandra one real fighting chance.

Many people who suffered strokes are often able to regain independence and most of their abilities when they have access to intensive physical therapy, speech therapy, occupational therapy, and ongoing support. We have seen countless examples of recovery stories made possible because families had access to financial resources and consistent support.

We want that chance for Sandra too.

This is not about miracles.

This is about opportunity.

Consistency.

Dignity.

And giving someone we love every possible chance to thrive, before we focus entirely on keeping her comfortable.

With your support, we can fund a year of intensive rehabilitative therapy at Tampa General Rehabilitation Hospital.

Let’s give Sandra the opportunity to reclaim her independence.

To everyone who contributes, we would also love to send one of Sandra’s handmade jewelry pieces or artistic creations whenever possible as a heartfelt thank-you and as a small memento of the role you played in her recovery journey. Please ask for one as we would not want to impose. We have over 10 boxes of her inventory! She loved working on her art!

We also promise to keep everyone updated on her progress, her therapy journey, and the impact your support has made.

We were raised to work hard and provide for ourselves. We were not raised to ask for help unless absolutely necessary. This is the first time we are asking, reluctantly/hesitantly, because we have run out of ideas and options.

If you are unable to donate, simply sharing Sandra’s story will help get her access to those who can, and that is also helping.

Thank you in advance.