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FROM CRUNCHES TO COURAGE: A JOURNEY OF RESILIENCE

 
 

FROM CRUNCHES TO COURAGE: A JOURNEY OF RESILIENCE
- MY SPINAL CORD TUMOR STORY -

Hey there! Grab a cup of coffee, settle in, and let me share my story with you. It’s one of those rollercoasters that not only tests your mettle but also teaches you a thing or two about resilience and the power of the human spirit.

Back in the 90s, when neon leotards were all the rage and kickboxing classes were considered an edgy workout, I was breaking barriers. As one of the first females to become certified as a personal trainer, I was on a mission to empower women to embrace fitness. I designed and implemented personal training programs at various nationwide fitness centers before taking the plunge to open my own gym, exclusively for women. I watched women transform, not just in how they looked but in how they felt about themselves. The empowerment was contagious! Suddenly, it wasn’t just about losing weight or toning up; it was about embracing strength and confidence, breaking barriers and stereotypes one squat at a time.

It was my little sanctuary, and I wanted it to be a place where women could come together to sweat it out, find community, and embrace their journeys toward health and wellness. We focused not just on fitness, but also on weight management, nutrition, and yes, life coaching. Because let’s be honest—life can get tricky, and a little guidance can go a long way.

But just when I thought I had life figured out, it threw me a curveball. After teaching one particularly energetic kickboxing class, I noticed something strange: my toes were numb. At first, I shrugged it off, thinking maybe my shoelaces were too tight. But as days passed, the tingling sensation spiraled into full-blown numbness creeping up my legs. I consulted my doctor, who, after an inconclusive lumbar MRI, simply attributed my symptoms to “stress.” Honestly, it was disheartening. I had always felt a strong sense of intuition, and deep down, I knew something was very wrong.

Pushing through the dismissal, I pleaded for a thoracic MRI, but my doctor waved it off. The frustration of being unheard was palpable, especially as a woman often relegated to the sidelines when it came to health issues. As the numbness progressed and my body began to deteriorate, I feared the worst—multiple sclerosis seemed like the only explanation.

Then came the day of my thorasic MRI. Laying there, tears streaming down my cheeks, I felt utterly powerless. But what happened next changed everything. The radiologist, whom I am forever grateful, broke protocol and broke the news: I had one of the largest spinal cord tumors she’d ever seen. My heart sank, but there was also a flicker of relief. Finally, I had clarity.

The next day, I met with a neurosurgeon. “You need surgery immediately,” he said. However, the wait for two more weeks felt like an eternity. Every day, I lost more muscle function, and the thought of leaving my young children—ages seven, four, and just one—was a crushing weight on my heart.

On the morning of the surgery, I kissed my family goodbye, fully aware of how precarious life can be. But here’s the thing about me: when someone tells me I can’t do something, I take it as a personal challenge. I was determined to walk out of that hospital.

The surgery lasted eight grueling hours, and I suffered a heart attack during the process. When I woke up, I was in the cardiac ICU, grappling with the reality of my situation. After a week, I was moved to Neuro ICU, surrounded by patients who were paralyzed, facing their own battles. My heart ached for them, but I was also inspired.

One day, I set a goal: I would walk around the nurses' station. Gripping the railing with all my might, I put one foot in front of the other. The room was filled with cheers from young men who were also fighting their own battles. “You can do it! Do it for us!” they shouted, and with each step, I felt the spark of hope igniting within me.

Relearning to walk was an uphill climb. I mean, here I was, a fitness instructor known for my enthusiasm and pep, suddenly finding myself in a world where walking felt like scaling a mountain. Some days were hurdles—literally. I would trip over the invisible ones, feeling the weight of my limitations. There were many days of frustration and tears, especially when I couldn’t even change my baby’s diaper. They had severed most of muscles in my back, which left me struggling to use my arms. Unfortunately, I had to make the heart-wrenching decision to step away from teaching fitness classes, as my strength and coordination just didn’t bounce back the way I had hoped. It was a bittersweet moment for me, but I continued to focus on healing and finding new ways to stay active.

Fast forward to 2014, and there I was, minding my own business, when—bam! I got rear-ended by a construction truck. I remember the jolt like it was yesterday; it was like someone pressed the pause button on my whole life. Suddenly, the familiar numbness crept back in, wrapping around my body like an unwelcome guest you can’t seem to shake off.

I went through the usual rigmarole: MRIs, countless doctor visits, and a whole lot of waiting around for answers that never seemed to come. You know how it is—you meet one doctor after another, all with their own theories, and you’re left feeling like a human guinea pig. But then, I found a doctor who actually wanted to dig deeper. His persistence paid off, and soon we discovered that a disc was pressing on my nerves. Cue the surgery lights!

I underwent an anterior lumbar fusion, which, let me tell you, felt like a miracle at first. The symptoms improved almost immediately, and for a brief, shining moment, I thought I’d finally turned a corner. But life had other plans; about 18 months later, the pesky pain crept back in. Ugh! Can you believe it? The fusion had failed. Here I was, thinking I’d found my happy ending, and instead, I was back on the merry-go-round of medical procedures.

Not one to back down, I sought out another doctor, this time for a posterior fusion. And guess what? Once again, I felt the sweet relief—until two years later when I realized I was back in the ring. This time, my arms, hands, and even feet joined the party with their own special brand of discomfort. Who knew my body had such a flair for drama?

So, off I went for a cervical fusion, and I could feel the improvements almost instantly. It was like that moment in a movie where the protagonist finally finds their groove. But just when I thought I was out of the woods, life threw me yet another curveball. A year later, I got the diagnosis of arthritis in both hips. Double hip replacement, here I come! I had really hoped to skate through a year without major surgery, but life, as it turns out, has a sense of humor that’s not always funny.

As I sit here now, typing with one hand and propping up my recovering hip with the other, I’ve come to realize something important: I’m resilient. Maybe stubborn is a better word, but I like to think of it as an unwavering spirit. This first hip replacement has proven to be tougher than I bargained for, but I’m determined to get through it.

Through all these trials, I’ve learned the importance of a strong mind-body connection. Healing isn’t just physical; it’s emotional and psychological too. I leaned into the skills I’d gained from my life coaching and counseling background, helping myself regain control and take back my life.

And now, I want to share everything I’ve learned with you. If you’re navigating chronic pain or need support, I’m here—let’s connect! Remember, having the right tools and support can make all the difference in not just surviving, but thriving.

So here’s to resilience, to laughter through the tears, and to the unwavering spirit within us all! Let’s keep moving forward together!


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