If you’ve been following along for a while, you know that this year has been one of the hardest of my life- physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’ve shared little pieces here and there, but I wanted to take a moment to put it all together. This is my story – my pain journey – and an update on where things are now.

February 2024 – The beginning

It all started in February when my right hand was injured by a student. This student was trying to injure another student; I was able to secure my students and get them to a safe space. When I started to call the students parents, they hit my phone out of my hand and when I went to pick it up they stomped on my hand and kicked my wrist into a door frame. What seemed like a “just rest it for a bit” kind of injury turned into something that would forever completely change my life.

March 2024- The first Surgery

By March, I was in surgery for a severe TFCC tear. I was also fitted for a brace for a sagittal band tear. My hand surgeon was hopeful that this brace would help them heal in 6-8 weeks. Started intense physical therapy, determined to get back to normal. Spoiler: normal never came

March-April 2024 – More surgery, more pain

When the nerve pain started 6 weeks post op, doctors realized my nerve needed to be wrapped and my sagittal bands surgically repaired because they did not heal like expected due to severity of tear. I felt like I was living at doctors appointments and therapy sessions.

May 2024 – the infection

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they did. I ended up with a severe infection and spent 6 days in the hospital. I went home with a drain in my hand and an antibiotic schedule that ruled my life. Still, I fought my way back into therapy as soon as I could.

June 2024 – A New Diagnosis

This was the month everything in my life shifted. I was diagnosed with Complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS) – a chronic, incurable nerve condition. I continued intense therapy twice a week, wearing a brace that immobilized my right wrist. I went through several braces in efforts to give me the best possible chance at healing. I was also diagnosed with complex PTSD and severe anxiety. My body was fighting – but so was my mind.

August-September 2024 – Trying the Blocks

I had two Stellate ganglion blocks (injections in the neck meant to “reset” the nerve pain) Both failed.

But if there’s one thing about me – I don’t quit. So through the horrible pain I kept showing up to therapy, week after week, month after month.

March 2025 – Another surgery

After months of worsening pain, imaging revealed that my ulnar bone wasn’t connected to my radial bone. So back to the operating room I went – this time for a fusion surgery and ligament repair. Two screws were placed in my wrist. I wore a full cast from mid-bicep to hand, bent at a 90 degree angle.

It wasn’t easy. IT hurt. But I still had hope

April-May 2025 The setbacks continue

A bad allergic reaction to the dermabond meant another infection scare. I went from a splint to cast, cast to splint, all while attending therapy and trying to keep my spirits up; and be a full time mom to twin boys!

April-September 2025- More blocks, more braces, no relief

Four more ganglion blocks later…. Nothing. Therapy measured my progress in September – only to find I was worse in every way. My pain, my range of motion, and my strength were all declining. Every tool that’s supposed to help CRPS patients hadn’t even touched me.

October 20025 – A flicker of hope

In October, I tried something new – a spinal cord stimulator trail. I had a terrible allergic reaction to the medical glue (because of course I did), but for the first time in over a year, I felt real relief.

So on October 17th 2025 I will have a cervical spinal cord stimulator implanted into my spine. It’s a huge step – scary, but filled with hope. This is another complete lifestyle change.

What I’ve learned so far

This journey has taken nearly everything out of me. It’s tested my patience, my faith, my resilience, and my identity. But it’s also shown me that healing isn’t linear – and that strength doesn’t always look like progress. Sometimes, it looks like getting out of bed and facing another day with chronic pain. It looks like being an active mom and not letting my boys lives slow down even though I don’t think I can endure another day.

I don’t know what the next chapter will look like, but I know I’m walking into with hope, gratitude and a determination to keep sharing this story – not just for me, but for anyone else walking through invisible pain.

If you’re struggling, you’re not alone. If you’re fighting, I see you. And if you’ve made it this far, thank you for being part of my journey.

Here’s a quick list of a few of my favorite and most helpful items I’ve used along this journey!