A Journey of Survival, Strength, and Faith For the past four years, I have been my own motivator, my own advocate, and my own voice. I have fought battles most people could not dare imagine, yet and I am still standing. I am grateful to be alive, but I cannot ignore the heartbreak and injustice that started in September 2021. I was hospitalized due to complications from Covid-19. While in the ICU, I was prescribed medication that triggered a stroke. What followed was a cascade of medical emergencies, multiple TIAs, a medically induced coma, and a craniotomy with two incisions one the right side of my brain the other on the back of my neck. By 4:30 p.m. that day, I was declared brain dead. Update I discovered Nov., 2025, 6" long incision [after shaving my hair for a new look.] My only child, unaware of my condition until days later, flew in and was pressured for two agonizing hours to end my life. He refused. And by the grace of God, I woke up two weeks later, paralyzed from the neck down, blind, and stripped of my senses of taste and smell. After six months, I was discharged with no plan, no support, and no answers. My business, which I had poured my heart into, was left behind without a trace. I was sent to live with my son in a different state, with no medical records to guide new doctors. I became a mystery patient bouncing between Arizona, Texas, Oklahoma and Ohio and specialists, all of whom refused to treat me due to purposeful corrupted and incomplete documentation from the hospital that caused the trauma. Eventually, one neurologist saw past the chaos and took action. In November 2024, after extensive testing, I was told I needed another brain surgery to remove a cyst, and a second surgery on my left arm to address nerve damage, DVT, atrophy, neuropathy, and lymphedema. But I have come too far to go under the knife again. I have taught myself how to eat, how to use a remote, and how to peck out this very message. I have found hope in an alternative: stem cell therapy in Thailand. It is a promising path forward for me, but I need help with travel and an assistant to accompany me. I still fall often. I have been told it is a consequence of the type of brain surgery I endured. Yet through every setback, my heart remains full. God saved me, and I carry His love with me every day. Even when I feel at my lowest, His grace lifts me. His love puts a smile on my face. This is not just a story of survival. It is a call for support, a testament to faith, and a reminder that even in the darkest moments, light can break through.