We began our life in a small, one bedroom, apartment. I had taken a break from EMS and I was working at a local factory at the time. Richelle, being the active person she was, didn't wait long before finding a job. Despite our busy schedules, we still found time to have fun. Our lifestyle was active and we often went camping, fishing, hiking, and many other outdoor actvities.

We went on to buy a house on the other side of town from the apartment. From an outside perspective we were living a normal life. On the inside, we were chasing the American Dream just like everyone else.
Around March of 2018 we went hiking at a beautiful place in the mountains called "The Channels". It's named for its rock formations at the top of the trail. We were hiking up the trail and made it about halfway to the top (2.5 hours) and Richelle couldn't make it any farther. Her feet, she said, were in terrible pain and were burning. We had to turn around and she nearly didn't make it back. This would be the last time she went on a hike to date. Looking back, this was one of the first signs of trouble.

Soon after this happened she started having "random" pains that would "shoot" through her feet. The first time it happened was alarming. We were sitting in the living room, watching TV like normal and she suddenly yells out. I didn't know what was happening at first. She said a shooting pain went through her foot, like someone stabbed her. This would become a common occurance and would sometimes include her hands.
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