Richard, Alycia
My name is Doreen Richard. I am married to a very supportive husband, Paul- and together, we have raised three wonderful children: Alycia, Danielle, and Michael. Our family was built on love and the belief we would always face challenges together. I never would have imagined that one day, I would have to share a story like this.
No parent should ever have to find the words to explain the loss of their child. This is very hard for me to do, but if sharing this can spare even one mother or father from the unbearable pain that I now have to live with- if it can prevent a parent from having to bury their child, then I will find the strength. This is about my beautiful daughter, Alycia Richard. Forever 46. Alycia was taken from us way too soon. Her life mattered. And her story deserves to be told with love and remembrance.
Alycia lived with a genetic condition known as Vascular Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome; otherwise knows as VEDS. It is a disorder of the body's connective tissues- meaning the structures that are meant to hold the body together: blood vessels, organs, and skin- are fragile. For Alycia, this meant the pain was no occasional or temporary, it was constant. She lived with it every day, for 46 years. Simple activities could cause injury or serious complications for her. Even medical procedures that are considered routine for most, could carry severe risks including death. Her body endured more than it was ever meant to bear. But she pushed forward with dignity and strength.
Forty-five days before Alycia passed, she was hospitalized for a minor procedure, abscess removal in her lower leg. Because of her condition, that procedure became the beginning of a cascade of medical issues. None of which were related to her reasons for being admitted. We lost her twice, but Alycia survived because somewhere beneath her pain, lived a strength that kept her holding on. The hospital took nearly everything from her body. But it never took her will. I watched my daughter endure more than any person ever should, and I also watched her fight. Her determination, her refusal to give up, is what for her through the hospital stay. Alycia survived and was on the road to recovery. Or so I thought.
On the day of her son's birthday, I received a phone call from my grandson that changed my life forever. My grandson found his mother on the floor and unresponsive, asking me what he should do. "Happy Birthday Kyle." When my daughter was discharged, she was sent home to recover- but recovering meant coming off of powerful opioid medications that her body depended on. Those medications were tightly controlled. The earliest appointment she could get was three weeks away. Too long for her body in pain and withdrawal. Alycia needed help and sought relief from someone she trusted. She was not trying to get high. She was trying to push through the pain. To be present for her son's birthday to celebrate his life and to make memories that would last a lifetime.
Those memories never continued. There were stolen from a drug that hides where no one expects is. Fentanyl kills. Alycia mattered. Her life mattered and will always continue to mater. I love you, My Baby Girl.