So It Began,
January 29, 2020—the day of a surgery that changed my life. At the time, I thought it was for the worse. I had a tibia-fibular osteotomy with an external fixator placed, which meant my two lower leg bones were cut in half and stabilized with external rods to allow them to regrow straight. The procedure was necessary due to tibial torsion, a twisting of the tibia bone that had developed as I grew. If left uncorrected, it would have continued to place excessive strain on my ankle, hip, and knee joints, increasing the risk of long-term damage.
But what should have been a 12-week recovery turned into an over year long ordeal due to surgical complications and setbacks. I spent over a year in physical therapy, only stopping because insurance refused to cover more sessions—not because I was fully recovered. I couldn’t drive for over a year. I lost most of the feeling in my foot. And I was never able to return to bedside nursing due to the lasting impact of my injury.
There was a time when I wasn’t sure I’d ever walk normally again. The idea of training for the Everest Base Camp trek—something I had dreamed of since childhood—felt impossible.
A Body That Fought Against Me
For context, this leg surgery was just one part of a much larger battle with my health. I was diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome Type II (CRPS) in my right arm at age 12, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome at 14, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), endometriosis, severe obesity, an autoimmune-triggered gluten allergy, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), severe asthma, and a history of multiple orthopedic surgeries. I have struggled with anxiety and depression on and off for years.
In short, my body has tried to break me in every way imaginable. But I’ve always clung to the belief that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
The Turning Point
By September 2022, my husband and I were living in Florida. Four months earlier, I had bariatric surgery to help address my severe obesity. The hope was that losing weight would relieve some of the pressure on my joints, making my chronic pain more manageable.
Recovery was far from smooth—I had already been hospitalized twice due to post-surgical complications. But despite the struggles, I had lost about 70 pounds, and for the first time in over a decade, I felt like my body had the potential to do something great. I began to believe that I could achieve the impossible—trekking to Everest Base Camp.
More than that, for the first time in my life, I was making choices that prioritized my own health. I wasn’t just surviving—I was actively taking back control from the chronic illnesses that had ruled my life since 2009.
April 19, 2024—The Walk That Changed Everything
By this time, I was back in my home state of Massachusetts, and I had lost 140 pounds since my surgery. That morning, Taylor Swift’s The Tortured Poets Department album had just dropped, and I set out for my first “training” walk while listening to it in its entirety.
I walked four miles with my two Italian Greyhounds, Pocky and Hiroshi. I can still remember the exact moment I heard “Florida!!!” for the first time, and how the lyrics transported me back to where this journey had truly begun—when I started believing that Everest Base Camp wasn’t just a childhood dream, but a real possibility.
At that point, I hadn’t told many people about my Everest goal. My body was still unpredictable, my health still uncertain. But my husband and I were having more and more conversations about whether this dream could actually become a reality.
A Year of Training, Setbacks, and Triumphs
The rest of 2024 was spent increasing my activity level. I walked 2-5 miles multiple times a week, attended weekly physical therapy, and fought through multiple asthma flares—including another hospitalization. I battled through chronic pain flare-ups, managed a hip tear, and dealt with stressful work situations.
But I also climbed my first 4,000-foot mountain, hiked with family and friends (many of whom did not know about Everest yet), maintained my weight loss, and—most importantly—became confident enough to consider booking the trek of a lifetime.
Here I Am—Booking Everest Base Camp
So, here I am today—a woman with multiple chronic illnesses, actively taking control of her health, and committing to a goal that once felt impossible. My husband and I are about to officially book our Everest Base Camp trek, and I am ready to share this journey with you.
There will be highs and lows, victories and setbacks, smooth paths and seemingly insurmountable obstacles. But I am determined to see this through.
I welcome you to join me on this adventure—to witness the challenges, triumphs, and everything in between.
Up Next:
Understanding My Chronic Illnesses
In my next post, I’ll dive deeper into the chronic illnesses I live with, how they impact my daily life, and how they shape my training for Everest Base Camp.
This is just the beginning.