After enduring so many years of chronic pain my mental health deteriorated. Especially, after my TOS surgery in 2020. I expected that surgery to be this magic "cure-all", and when the pain not only pursued but worsened, I wanted to give up. Pair this with the mayhem and anxiety of COVID lockdowns, I felt trapped inside a body I was desperate to get out of or at least change. Prior to that year, I had never experienced suicidal ideation or thoughts of self-harm. It was my own "shameful secret", or at least that's how I saw it. Saying those words aloud meant facing those fears head-on, and after fighting against my own body for pain relief for so long, blocking out the mental toll also became routine. I got too used to putting on a brave face and choosing to focus on something else, this was easier than facing my fears and saying the words, "I'm really struggling" aloud. The only person I ever confessed my darkest thoughts to was my therapist, and yes eventually my partner. My therapist told me to focus on healthy things that I can nourish my new body with, as a way to rethink the pros and cons of my surgery recovery. This helped me realize the handful of pros that were HUGE, in order to lessen the significance of the cons. The biggest takeaway was being able to use my arm more than I ever was in those first two years of my initial injury. I decided that since using a stationary bike felt good to move inflammation from my 2020 surgery upgrading to an actual bike would give me an excuse to "escape" lockdown. 

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     Weekly therapy, excessive biking/calorie counting (to a degree that was not oh-so-healthy, mainly to lose pre-surgery weight), and spending lots of quality time with my partner, my family, and lots of pups. My partner became my number one person to lean on, which was great throughout college since we were together most of the time, and if not, I was with my roommate. This was great until we graduated college and moved back to the Bay Area into our childhood homes. The amount of time faking a strong face and starting a new career as a paralegal and softball coach for my little sister meant pushing through loads of worsening symptoms in 2021. As a young woman, going to doctor after doctor's offices' explaining the severity of movement and pain in my thoracic rib cage, all I got were eye rolls. This ultimately led to yet another series of diagnostic testing to find the answer to my million-dollar question, "What the hell is happening to my body?" The gaslighting and trauma done by the medical world began to take more of my spirit and will to keep fighting. I shared this openly with my primary care provider who happen to mention the idea of researching the process of getting a service dog. 

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       Amidst 5 separate doctors, hundreds of images (MRIS, CT, Xray), a full-time job on top of being my own medical advocate/secretary, hours of insomnia, and panic attacks, I researched everything I could about the technical differences, legally, between service and emotional support dogs. I came to the conclusion that what I needed was much more than a companion. It wasn't until a normal Tuesday morning when I met a nice woman during my routine morning coffee run at Peet's that I felt like maybe I had a chance. She had a 120-pound stoic, well-mannered 6-month Rhodesian Ridgeback. If you need to know anything about the breed well let me tell you the three main facts. One, they were bred to hunt lions in packs in South Africa. Two, they are incredibly smart, and last, but not least, they are notoriously stubborn. My family adopted a puppy during Covid and let me tell you the training was rough. As soon as I saw them sitting outside I walked over and asked her where the heck she got him trained, and that's when I heard about Master Dog Trainor, Mr. Rick Klassen.

 

      Coincidentally, his training facility is based in Desert Hot Springs, a mere 30 minutes from my alma mater, the University of Redlands. It felt like a sign, I could see my college roommate (Gwenny) after feeling so detached from friends. You see, after college, none of my close friends from high school were in the Bay, so this too also amplified my anxiety and depression. Everyone else was starting grad school, something my partner hoped to also achieve. I needed my own passion project. I immediately planned a trip to So Cal in order to get the most advice possible from such a veteran.  Rick agreed to meet with me in early December of 2022 over breakfast to discuss the ins and outs of the service dog industry. The biggest lesson I got from him was this, YOU CAN TRAIN YOUR OWN SERVICE DOG. Yep, you read that right. To sum it up in the simplest of terms, just find a well-behaved dog (check career change dogs) and a trainer willing to work with you on the exact tasks that you need a service dog to fulfill. Then, get AKC certified! Rick gave me a list of capable and AKC-verified trainers in Northern California and among that list, I found my guardian angel, Sherrie. She is the most generous, warm-hearted, yet badass woman I have ever met. She has been training dogs for search and rescue, police academy, service dogs, protection, and many other dog roles. She happened to be the first trainer I chose off of Rick's list....ring... ring... no answer... so I left a voicemail. 

 

       I was staying with Gwenny and her friend's family, yet another divine sign. This was my first time meeting this mother-daughter duo, both of whom suffered from hypermobile Ehlers-Danhlos Syndrome. A diagnosis I was beginning to suspect more and more.  My worsening symptoms consisted of rib subluxations, something that no doctor I met with thus far believed in, and yet two patients were informing me of this large spectrum of EDS disorders. In that spectrum lies a rare diagnosis that I too suspected I had, Slipping Rib Syndrome (SRS). Moments after what felt like the most shocking news, my one rang, caller ID, Sherrie. After a two-hour raw and vulnerable chat with her about why I needed a service dog and the tasks I would need from the dog, I heard sniffling on the other side of the line. "Merry Christmas you sweet soul I have a dog that I can train and give you as a present this year." 

 

     On top of medical debt, some of the applications and dues I submitted for some service dog programs fooled me with fine print and my desperation. It would either take me 2-4 years until I got a dog, raise $35,000 or I would find out that mobility training was too difficult or too vague to train.  Still, have questions and need some hand-holding because this whole process is beyond stressful and ridiculously expensive? So did I, and now I want to pass on the love that Sherrie showed me, I'm here to help anyone who needs a helping paw (; Had I not run into that nice woman outside of Peet's I may not have been able to find the strength to undergo my first round of SRS surgery in April of 2023. My hope is that by offering virtual, budget-friendly coaching consults for everything service dogs, more patients may realize just how possible and feasible this dream can be. 

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