Life With Sticklers

Today is my survival anniversary! ✨🙌

One year ago on May 10th, my life changed forever. Just four days after undergoing a major vascular transplant-bypass operation, I suffered massive internal bleeding, hemorrhaging that nearly took my life. The pressure from the blood building up in my abdomen became so severe that my lungs collapsed, and everything changed in a matter of moments when I was rushed back for emergency surgery. What was supposed to be recovery quickly became survival.

I do not think I will ever forget the unbelievable amount of pain I felt that day. It truly felt like all of my internal organs were going to rupture out of my stomach at any moment from the pressure building inside of me. At one point, shortly before my emergency CT scan, the pain became so overwhelming that I stopped reacting to it altogether. I no longer cared to talk, move, or even respond much. Brett immediately knew something was horribly wrong because anyone who knows me knows I am always talking, and this time I was quietly shutting down.

I remember starting to struggle to take a full breath, but by then I almost did not care anymore. I just kept thinking to myself, “one more breath” and “it’ll be okay, the doctors are trying to figure out what’s wrong.” Then the doctors came in and delivered the news that they were taking me back for emergency surgery immediately.

There was no time to process it all. No time to call anyone. Barely enough time to tell Brett that I loved him and to please call my mom.

I still remember being rolled into the operating room and watching doctors rush around me as the anesthesiologist worked quickly to put me under so the surgeons could begin. In order to save my life, they had to fully reopen my abdomen to find and stop the source of the bleeding. I ultimately ended up with over 58 staples across my abdomen and right thigh along with a wound vac as my body fought to recover from the trauma it had endured.

There are memories from that time that still do not feel real. The fear, the uncertainty, the ICU, the alarms, the pain, and the overwhelming realization of how fragile life truly is. But somehow, through emergency surgery, incredible medical care, and the support of a few people who refused to give up on me despite the odds, I survived.

Today marks 365 days since that moment.

This past year has not been easy. Survival does not mean life suddenly returns to normal. There has been healing, grief, trauma, setbacks, gratitude, growth, and learning how to live in a body that has been through so much. But there has also been laughter, love, purpose, sunsets, small victories, and moments I would have missed had I not made it through that night.

If you are able to donate blood, please consider doing so. Blood donations save lives every single day, and one small act of kindness can become part of someone else’s survival story.

Today is my survival anniversary and I am still here. My body may be scarred, but my body is beautiful! 🤍🙌

After I’ve been standing for a bit, my legs start to get really blotchy and mottled, with patches of red, purple, dark pink, and lighter areas mixed in. It can look a little alarming if you’re not used to seeing it, but for me this comes down to blood pooling and circulation issues. Instead of my blood moving back up toward my heart like it should, gravity pulls more of it down into my legs and it just kind of stays there. That uneven blood flow is what creates that marbled, patchy look on my skin.

In my case, it doesn’t just go away when I sit down right away, which shows how much my circulation is being affected. I have dysautonomia, which means my autonomic nervous system doesn’t regulate things like heart rate and blood flow the way it should, especially when I’m upright. On top of that, I have a vascular compression disorder in my abdomen, so blood flow is already being restricted higher up. When you put all of that together, with my connective tissue disorder it makes it even harder for my body to circulate blood properly.

So what you’re seeing isn’t a rash or irritation, it’s a real-time look at how my body is handling blood flow and trying to keep up!

(For context the strap of my AFO is not tight, and the padding has ridges to encourage blood + air flow)