A Leap Into the Unknown
Let’s get one thing straight: this isn’t the kind of journey I ever imagined I’d be on. But when your body decides to rebel against you, and every day feels like a battle, you start looking for answers. That’s how I ended up here—nervous, excited, hopeful, and wondering if I’ve completely lost my mind—documenting my trip to Panama for stem cell therapy.
Here’s the deal: this is going to be real. No sugarcoating, no skipping the messy parts, and no pretending I’ve got this all figured out. You’re going to see it all—like you’re my BFF tagging along. Some days, I’ll feel brave and determined. Other days, I’ll be wondering things like, How do I explain this to my doctor without looking like I’ve joined a cult? (Maybe I’ll casually drop it between “I’ve been drinking more water” and “Oh, by the way, I’m flying to Panama for stem cells. So…how was your weekend?”)
Right now, I don’t have the money. I don’t have the flight booked. I don’t have an itinerary. I don’t even know if Panama uses the same electrical outlets as the U.S. or if I’ll need to buy one of those weird adapters. And let’s be honest, the only Spanish I know is how to order at a drive-through—taco, burrito, maybe quesadilla if I’m feeling adventurous. Oh, and I know how to say piso mojado because I see it on those yellow cones everywhere. I think it means “there’s water on the ground” or “watch out for puddles.” Honestly, I’m not even sure, but if the airport has a slippery floor, I’m ready.
All I have is the decision. I’m going. I know I’m going. I’m as confident about that as I am about the sun rising tomorrow. Because here’s the thing: wanting something enough and deciding to go for it is all you really need to get it done. The rest? I’ll wing it.
This blog isn’t just about the treatment. It’s about the whole experience: the research, the planning, the flight to Panama, the moments where I ask myself, “Am I really doing this?” and the moments where I know I am.
We’ll laugh at the ridiculous moments, like when I’m sprinting to my connecting gate at the airport—a 6-foot-tall little old lady with a cane, yelling, “Nothing to see here, kids, just a giraffe trying to catch her flight!” Or when I’m sweating like a pig in Panama and start stripping off layers, silently wondering how much public nakedness is socially acceptable before someone calls security. And don’t even get me started on keto options—“Yes, I’ll have the avocado…with a side of please don’t judge me.”
This isn’t just my adventure—it’s ours. For anyone who’s ever thought, “That’s only for the ultra-rich” or “I could never fly to another country for medical treatment” or “I wish I could afford something like that”—I’ve been there. I’ve had those doubts. But here I am, taking the leap, and I want to show you what it’s really like.
Through it all, I hope you’ll feel like you’re right there with me—learning, laughing, maybe even crying a little (hopefully from laughter, but no guarantees), and finding the courage to take a leap of your own. This is the beginning of something new, and I’m so glad you’re here for it. Let’s do this—one step (and one injection) at a time.
~ Colleen