This organization was born out of my family’s story—one marked by love, heartbreak, and a determination to make sure others don’t suffer in silence.

In 2004, my world shifted when my own child received a life-changing diagnosis. My role as a full-time employee in Hi-tech turned into that of a self-taught, self-employed REALTOR and part-time caregiver for my daughter.  

Watching my child’s little body endure endless treatments and testing, all the while I was battling with hospitals, insurance companies, and administrators who seemed not to care whether she lived or died. It was barbaric.

I carried anger and heartbreak, but also a fierce resolve to be present with my child and my family daily to protect them for the years it took to achieve remission.

But in 2007, tragedy struck again. My eldest sister Jackie, just 45 years old, died of a prescription drug overdose. Jackie was bright, loving, and strong, but she lived with schizophrenia and delusional disorders—making her one of the most vulnerable patients in a system that failed her at every turn. Her psychiatrist prescribed pain medications and tranquilizers for years without once checking medical records or validating her claims of cancer. That negligence stole her life. That action of “treating and streeting” has cost all too many lives.