Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior

Understanding the Types, Triggers, and Coping Strategies     What if the most intense pain you’ve ever felt came from a part of your body that no longer exists? As an above-knee amputee, phantom pain is one of the most difficult parts of my journey to explain. It’s invisible. It’s unpredictable. And unless you’ve experienced it yourself, it’s almost impossible to fully understand. Yet for many amputees, it becomes a reality we learn to navigate every day.     On this episode of the BAWarrior Podcast, I pull back the curtain on phantom pain and share my personal experience living with it over the last several years. From the constant burning and tingling sensations that feel like a foot trapped in a vice grip, to the sudden stabbing pains that can stop me in my tracks, phantom pain has taught me more about resilience than I ever expected.     I talk openly about what these sensations feel like, how they can affect daily life, and the emotional toll they can take when they strike unexpectedly. I also share my experience undergoing a revision surgery and AMI procedure at Massachusetts General Hospital, where surgeons discovered a foreign object near my femur that had been contributing to years of severe pain. While there is no universal solution for phantom pain, I’ve learned that understanding potential triggers can make a difference. Poor socket fit, overuse, nerve irritation, stress, and even life circumstances can all influence how our bodies respond. Through years of trial and error, I’ve discovered that managing phantom pain often requires a combination of strategies rather than a single fix. Most importantly, I share the mindset tools that have helped me endure some of my hardest moments. Deep breathing, movement, distraction techniques, mindfulness, and refusing to give pain control over my identity have become powerful parts of my personal toolbox. While pain may be part of my story, it does not get to write the ending.     If you’re an amputee struggling with phantom pain, I want you to know something I wish someone had told me during my darkest moments: it will not last forever. The pain comes and goes. The valleys are real, but so are the mountaintops. You are stronger than you realize, and you do not have to walk this journey alone. I believe healing is about more than physical recovery. It’s about learning how to keep moving forward, even when the road feels impossible.     Join the Movement If this story resonates with you, I invite you to become part of our growing Warrior community. Subscribe to the BAWarrior Podcast, connect with us through Warrior Ground, join our conversations, and discover the strength that comes from walking alongside others who truly understand the journey. Together, we heal. Together, we grow. Together, we rise. Because being a warrior isn’t about never feeling pain—it’s about refusing to let pain define who you are. You are strong, dear Warrior, and you are worthy. Have a blessed week, and as always, Be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!!!   Much love,  

Using the Energy of the Fire Horse-Part 3     What if the thing holding you back isn’t your circumstances… but your waiting? That’s the question I’m asking myself—and you—in this episode of Be a Warrior. As I move into my seventh year as an above-knee amputee and step into 2026, I feel a shift happening. A deep, unmistakable pull to stop waiting for life to feel easier, cleaner, or more predictable—and instead start leading, exactly where I am. This episode is part three of my five-part series inspired by the Year of the Fire Horse, and if you’ve missed the first two, I highly recommend going back and listening. This series is building intentionally, because growth doesn’t happen in isolation—it happens in layers. In the first episode, I talked about movement, momentum, and fearless expansion. Not fearless in the absence of fear, but fearless in the willingness to move through it. As amputees—and honestly, as humans—we live with a lot of fear. Fear of pain. Fear of falling. Fear of how our bodies will feel tomorrow. Fear of what people see when they look at us. Expansion doesn’t mean fear disappears. It means we don’t let it decide our future. Last week, we explored the bold, passionate energy of the Fire Horse and how powerful energy can work for us—or against us. Energy doesn’t discriminate. If you’re prepared, it can propel you forward faster than you imagined. If you’re unprepared, it can feel overwhelming and destabilizing. This year is not subtle. It’s loud. It’s demanding. And it’s asking us to participate instead of sit on the sidelines. Which brings me to this week’s focus: leading instead of waiting. If you’re not an amputee, let me pull back the curtain for a moment. Amputee life—especially in the early years—is dominated by waiting. Waiting for wounds to heal. Waiting for insurance approvals. Waiting for appointments. Waiting for test sockets. Waiting for remakes. Waiting for your limb to shrink, change, adjust, stabilize. Waiting for your body to feel like it belongs to you again. There can be more time spent waiting than actually living, and that kind of waiting is exhausting. I’ve watched so many people—myself included—get stuck in that space. Not because we’re weak, but because the system trains us to wait. And at some point, that waiting becomes a habit. We tell ourselves, Once this socket fits better… once I heal… once this next thing happens… then I’ll start living. This year is calling us out on that. The Year of the Fire Horse is designed for people who are ready to lead instead of wait. And leadership doesn’t mean having all the answers. It means choosing not to put your life on hold. You can lead from a wheelchair. You can lead while healing. You can lead while waiting on insurance or surgery or the next prosthetic adjustment. Leading means asking yourself: What can I do today, with what I have, where I am? Because sitting and waiting doesn’t just pause your life—it quietly erodes your confidence, your joy, and your sense of purpose. I know that when I wait too long, I stop meeting people. I stop moving my body. I stop feeling good about myself. I start complaining. And that’s not the life I want—and I don’t believe it’s the life you want either. The Fire Horse only comes around once every 60 years. When the energy of fire and horse combine, it’s powerful, fast, and transformative. But everything I’ve read says the positive outcomes come from preparation. From intention. From deciding ahead of time that when the energy hits, you’re ready to ride instead of getting knocked over. For me, that preparation has meant getting quiet, introspective, and honest about what I want my next 12 months to look like. How I want to lead myself. How I want to show up for my family. How I want to live—not someday, but now. And that’s why I’m inviting you into action.     On February 17th, the Fire Horse energy officially begins, and I’m hosting a Year of the Fire Horse Virtual Challenge for women. It’s a 5K, 10K, half marathon, or marathon—done virtually, at your pace, in your way. This isn’t about speed or perfection. It’s about momentum. Accountability. Community. About proving to yourself that you can start before everything feels perfect. To Join the Virtual Challenge click HERE Get 30% of when you use the discount code: JOLLY   Waiting doesn’t have to be your full-time job. This episode is a call to stop postponing your life. To stop telling yourself you’ll start when conditions improve. To recognize that leadership begins the moment you decide to move—even if that movement is small, messy, and imperfect. You don’t need permission to live fully. You don’t need your circumstances to cooperate. You just need to decide that waiting no longer gets to run the show. This is your year to lead. Not tomorrow. Not when it’s easier. Today. I’ll be right here, walking it with you. And as always, Be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!!!   Much Love,          

The Year of The Fire Horse Part 1     As I sat down to share this episode, we are in that weird blur between the holidays and the start of the new year—January 21st to be exact. Somehow we’re saying goodbye to January already and I’m still not sure how time is moving this fast. To be honest, I am a little under the weather today. A trip back home to Chicago gifted me more than nostalgia—sniffles and congestion that love to linger. But if there’s anything amputee life has taught me, it’s how to show up anyway. Healing isn’t always linear, progress isn’t always pretty, and sometimes the real strength is simply being here. If you’ve been with me for a while, you already know how excited I am about 2026. This is the Year of the Horse, and I have unapologetically embraced it. Horses are my heart—right alongside my pups—and spending time with them is healing in motion. I was out loving on them earlier that morning, enjoying Arizona sunshine that feels a little too warm for January. (I’m still waiting for winter to show up so I can actually appreciate the desert heat again.) But weather aside, the symbolism of the horse couldn’t align more powerfully with the season I’m in—and the season many of you are in. What makes this year even more rare is that it isn’t just the Year of the Horse. It is the Year of the Fire Horse, a cycle that doesn’t come around often in the Chinese calendar. Fire brings imagery of energy, power, movement, and drive—big, explosive energy that demands expansion. When I learned that, I immediately knew I wanted to infuse that symbolism into our lives this year, especially within the amputee community. Now, if you’re not an amputee, don’t tune out. The beauty of this journey is that the lessons apply to anyone navigating hardship—whether your challenges are physical, medical, emotional, relational, or even professional. Struggle doesn’t discriminate. But neither does growth. I’ve never been a fan of New Year’s resolutions. January feels messy—physically, mentally, and emotionally. We’re recovering from holidays, reorganizing homes, resetting routines, trying to remember what vegetables look like, and wrestling with motivation that hasn’t thawed out yet. I spent those early weeks decluttering my body from holiday eating and drinking, refreshing my home, and re-establishing rhythms that support who I want to be—not just who I’ve been. For me, that looks like eating cleaner, scheduling movement, and taking care of my mind, my leg, my family, and my horses. I’m not a rigid scheduler by nature, but with so many things I love doing, I can’t always choose—and then nothing gets done. So sometimes structure serves us. While reading about the Year of the Fire Horse, five symbolic themes showed up. I decided I’m going to break them down over several episodes and explore how they can shape our growth. Unless something major happens in my own life (because I always speak from personal experience first), we’re riding that theme for a bit. The first Fire Horse theme? Movement, Momentum, and Fearless Expansion. Three words. Three mountains. Three invitations. Let’s start with movement. If you’re an amputee and you’re unhappy with where you’re at—maybe you’re watching others do things you wish you could do—the number one thing I’ll tell you is this: do not compare yourself to anyone else. Amputee life is not one size fits all. Body types, limb levels, insurance coverage, prosthetic technology, pain tolerance, terrain, weather, confidence—all of it changes the picture. Someone in snowy Minnesota isn’t out hiking in January. Someone in Arizona isn’t out walking at 115°F. Our seasons look different literally and figuratively. And that’s okay. But movement matters. In fact, movement is everything. Movement is how we reclaim our bodies. Movement is how we rebuild trust. Movement is how we protect our mental health. Movement is how we remind ourselves we’re alive. Prosthetics don’t move us—we move us. Insurance coverage doesn’t give us grit—we give us grit. And movement isn’t pain-free, effortless, or pretty in the beginning. It’s awkward. It’s exhausting. It’s uncomfortable. And some days it just feels unfair. But movement is life, and life demands movement. Even if you’re not on a prosthetic yet, wheelchairs, crutches, walkers—pushing yourself counts. Motion burns energy, heals the mind, and keeps you connected to your body and your environment. And with movement comes momentum. Momentum isn’t about speed—it’s about direction. It’s about choosing to walk to the end of the driveway today, past the neighbor’s house tomorrow, and maybe around the block next week. Those baby steps are not insignificant. They are data. They are discipline. They are the quiet stacking of strength. I still remember thinking I could walk a mile as soon as I got cleared for my prosthetic. I didn’t make it past three houses. I was disappointed at first, but then I realized something important: I had found my baseline. You cannot grow if you don’t know where you’re starting from. Momentum begins with honesty. Momentum is also how you build trust with your prosthesis—trust up a curb, down a hill, over uneven terrain, and through the hundred tiny adjustments your body makes to learn this new dance. Prosthesis + confidence is earned, not given. And it starts one step at a time. Then comes the third theme: fearless expansion.     Let me be very clear—fearless does not mean the absence of fear. It means facing fear. Every amputee I’ve ever met battles fear. Fear of falling. Fear of looking foolish. Fear of pain. Fear of malfunction. Fear of being judged. Fear of being stared at. Fear of being misunderstood. Fear of being trapped in this new reality forever. Fearless expansion is courage in motion. It’s putting on your leg even when you don’t feel like it. It’s going out in public before your gait feels steady. It’s learning how to trust a piece of machinery that now represents a part of your body. It’s standing back up every time you fall—literally or metaphorically. And here’s the truth: what you do now determines what your future looks like. I’m not worried about being 80 yet—but I know how I move my body today will directly affect that version of me.     I’m wired for action. Consuming content without integration doesn’t create change. So here’s your call to action: If you’re not moving, start. Not a marathon. Not a hike. Not a PR. Just movement. Ask yourself: What do I want my future to look like? Where do I want expansion? What scares me—and am I willing to face it? Maybe your goal is more steps. Maybe it’s longer prosthetic wear time. Maybe it’s a grocery run. Maybe it’s cooking a meal standing up. Maybe it’s just putting the leg on today. Compete only with yesterday’s version of you. If you get stronger, braver, and more resilient by even 1%—you’re winning. And if you need accountability, reach out. DM me. Join me. I’m launching a virtual challenge soon—Year of the Horse themed, of course—and I want you on my team. Because momentum is easier when you’re not doing it alone. So get moving. Build momentum. Expand fearlessly. Face the fire horse energy and ride it into the life you deserve. Get moving, Warriors!   And as always— be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!!!   Much Love,    

The Year of the Fire Horse and the Power of Becoming   Welcome to Season Six of the Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior (BA Warrior) Podcast—a milestone that still takes my breath away. If you had told me years ago that I would be hosting a podcast, let alone entering its sixth season, I would have laughed. It was never a dream I set out to chase. And yet, here we are. Proof that life doesn’t always unfold according to our plans—but often according to something far greater. If you’re new here, I want to personally welcome you. And if you’ve been walking this road with me for years, please know how deeply grateful I am. Your messages, your comments, your shared stories, and your willingness to show up week after week are the reason this podcast exists. Be a Warrior is not something I do alone—it’s something we build together. This podcast is rooted in amputee life. I am an above-knee amputee and have been for seven years. Everything I share comes from lived experience—the victories, the mistakes, the frustrations, the growth, and the moments that test every ounce of resilience. My hope has always been that by sharing my journey honestly, someone else might feel less alone in theirs.   A New Season, A New Energy   Season Six begins with a theme that feels deeply personal to me: the Year of the Horse—specifically, the Fire Horse. This year carries amplified energy, movement, instinct, and transformation. It also aligns beautifully with where I am in life right now. I recently completed my equine therapy certification, which allows me to bring the healing power of horses to others in a deeper, more intentional way. Horses have long been part of my life, but this year marks a turning point—where passion, purpose, and service come together. My goal for 2026 is to help expand access to equine therapy for overall well-being, especially for people navigating trauma, change, or physical loss. But before we talk about where we’re going, let me tell you how this year actually started—because it wasn’t graceful.     A Rough Start and an Important Lesson   My husband and I took a short getaway to Sedona, Arizona—a place that feels like a deep breath for the soul. We live in the desert, but a quick drive north brings cooler air, pine trees, red rocks, and a sense of escape. It was meant to be a simple, restorative weekend. In typical fashion, I packed last minute. I grabbed my makeup, hair products, clothes—and we were out the door. What I didn’t grab? Two things no above-knee amputee should ever forget:   My prosthetic charging cord The bag I use to pull my leg into my socket My bag to put my socket on….that I forgot.   I realized the charging cord was missing first. Panic set in—until I checked my prosthetic’s battery level. Eighty-two percent. I could manage one day. Then came the second realization. No bag. For those unfamiliar, I am a skin-fit amputee, meaning I don’t use liners or traditional suction. My leg requires a specific bag to pull the skin properly into the socket. Without it, my prosthesis does not go on. No shortcuts. No substitutes—at least, not easily. I didn’t sleep that night. I ran through every possible outcome: crutching around town, canceling plans, going home early. I was frustrated—not just because I forgot something critical, but because I knew better. Ironically, the reason I forgot was also a sign of progress. I had become so comfortable in my body, so confident in my mobility, that I wasn’t thinking about “what ifs” anymore. My prosthesis had become as normal to me as legs are to two-legged people. Comfort is a gift—but complacency can be costly.   Adaptation Is a Warrior Skill   The next morning, I went into full problem-solving mode. I asked myself: What do I have? What can I use? Garbage bags wouldn’t work—they’d tear. A standard pillowcase was too thick. Then I spotted a silk pillowcase. Thin. Slippery. Flexible. It wasn’t perfect—but it worked. I was able to walk around town that day. I didn’t hike, knowing my limits. When I got home later, I had blisters and raw skin—but I was mobile. I adapted. And that’s what amputee life often requires: creativity, patience, resilience, and the willingness to meet challenges head-on.   The Unpredictability of Phantom Pain   Just days later, I was reminded again how unpredictable this journey can be. Despite having minimal phantom pain since my nerve revision surgery, I was suddenly hit with intense, stabbing sensations in a foot that no longer exists. The pain came in waves—sharp, jolting, and relentless. It lasted for hours and woke me from sleep. There was no obvious trigger. No overexertion. No trauma. Through experience, I’ve learned that phantom pain doesn’t need permission. It arrives when it wants—and leaves when it’s ready. What got me through wasn’t panic. It was instinct. I ran through my mental checklist:   Socket fit? Fine. Injury? No. Stress? Manageable. Weather? Stable. Hydration? Questionable.   I drank water—lots of it. And the pain faded. Whether coincidence or correlation, I logged it as wisdom for the future.   Always adapting!   The Fire Horse Mentality   The horse symbolizes freedom, movement, instinct, truth, nervous system wisdom, and connection over control—all things that resonate deeply with amputee life. Freedom didn’t come to me through saving my leg. It came when I let it go. Movement returned not through endless surgeries, but through acceptance, adaptation, and the right prosthetic support. Instinct tells me when to rest, when to push, and when to trust that pain will pass. Truth asks me to acknowledge that this life is hard—but still meaningful. Horses understand nervous system regulation instinctively. As amputees, learning to regulate our own nervous systems is critical—not just for physical comfort, but emotional health. And perhaps most importantly: connection over control. Trying to control everything—our bodies, our recovery, our outcomes—often creates more suffering. Connection, whether to our prosthetist, our body, our community, or our faith, is what carries us forward.     Stop Comparing. Start Living.   One of the most destructive habits amputees fall into is comparison. Just because someone else is doing something you aren’t doesn’t mean you’re failing. Different bodies. Different trauma. Different prosthetics. Different lives. You are not behind. You are not weak. You are not less than. Compare yourself only to who you were yesterday.     A Call to Rise   Season Six is about listening, connecting, trusting, and becoming. It’s about letting go of the reins just enough to allow life—and faith—to lead. You are a warrior. Not because of what you’ve lost—but because of how you keep showing up. This year is a fresh page. A new chapter. Write it with courage. Live it with intention. And remember—you don’t have to do it alone. Welcome to Season Six. Let’s ride forward together. And as always, Be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!! Much love, Rise up, Warriors!!!