Relocating for Better Healthcare: Why We Made the Move

My family and I made the life-changing decision to relocate from Michigan, where we had been born, raised, and deeply rooted as die-hard “Go Blue” fans. We didn’t make this decision lightly, especially since it meant uprooting five adults and one child, with four of us being full-time workers needing to find new jobs and housing in a state we had never even visited. But ultimately, my declining health, specifically the care I was receiving for my sickle cell disease, forced our hand.

One of the largest hospitals in Michigan, where I had been receiving care, struggled to provide adequate support for adult sickle cell patients. Over the years, their program deteriorated, especially after my trusted doctor relocated out of state. His departure left a gap in the program, which never regained its focus or priority on patients like me. As a result, I found myself facing increasingly inadequate care, and my health began to suffer.

The thought of leaving Michigan wasn’t easy. We weighed several options, including relocating to Washington, D.C., where my former doctor had moved, as well as Tennessee and Texas. We fasted, prayed, and sought guidance from God on where to go. Ultimately, God answered our prayers, and that answer was North Carolina. There’s more to that story, and I’ll share how God guided us in another post.

Sickle cell played a huge role in this decision. I remember turning to my mother and oldest sister, Lesley, one day and telling them, “If I don’t leave Michigan, this state and this hospital will kill me.” My last hospitalization there became a defining moment for me.

During that stay, I was admitted amid the pandemic, and the hospital’s rules prevented any family from being with me. As a sickle cell warrior, having advocates by my side—usually my mom or my sister—is crucial because my pain often renders me unable to speak up for myself. But that time, I had to face everything alone. I was in severe pain, unable to advocate for myself, and found myself crying in my hospital bed, completely overwhelmed. The doctor refused to give me pain medication despite my suffering, leaving me to endure without any relief.

Desperate, I called my mom. She told me we would pray, but all I could do was cry. After I hung up, I looked up and prayed to God, asking Him to take care of my family, naming each of them. In that moment, I believed I might die that night. I told God, “I’m ready.”

But just after I finished that prayer, an African American nurse walked into my room. She looked at me and asked, “You haven’t gotten any medication yet?” I shook my head, explaining that the doctor refused to give me any. She frowned and said, “I have a brother with sickle cell. This is ridiculous. Let me go get you some medicine.”

She left the room and returned a few moments later with a medication pump. She had convinced the doctor to finally administer the pain relief I desperately needed. She set up the pump, and I finally began to stabilize enough to be transferred to a larger hospital. That woman was truly a guardian angel that night—whether literal or not, I will never know. But that experience solidified my decision: I had to leave Michigan. Staying meant risking my life. That wasn’t the first time I felt neglected as a patient in Michigan, but it was the final straw. It was time for a change, and we had to find a place where I could live—not just survive.

When my family and I first relocated to North Carolina, one of the first things on our agenda was meeting with a gene therapist. My sister, Lesley, and I scheduled an appointment shortly after arriving, filled with hope and excitement. This meeting felt like the beginning of a new chapter, one where advanced treatments could change my life. I remember the anticipation of learning more about gene therapy and what it could mean for me as a sickle cell warrior. The best part? I found out that I qualified for gene therapy, which made everything feel even more promising.

Yes, I was scared—who wouldn’t be? The thought of undergoing such a new and life-changing treatment came with its own fears and uncertainties. But the excitement overshadowed the fear. It was a chance for a better quality of life, and being so close to the facility made everything feel more attainable. Our family chose to settle in a city close to Duke University, home to a well-established adult sickle cell program and one of the leading centers for gene therapy research. Being near Duke meant that I had access to some of the best doctors and specialists who truly understood my condition.

This move wasn’t just about changing locations; it was about finding hope. The proximity to a world-class facility, where I could receive care tailored to my needs, was one of the most important factors in choosing North Carolina. It has been an adventure, full of new possibilities, and each step has felt like God guiding us toward a brighter future.

Leaving Michigan was one of the hardest things we’ve ever done. Saying goodbye to the place where we were born and raised, to our family, our friends, our church community, and to everything we knew was incredibly emotional. It meant parting with our parents, who had been our pillars of support, and leaving behind our routines, traditions, and the familiarity of the life we had always known. Yet, amid all the farewells, there was a sense of excitement—a hope for a new chapter that could bring us closer to the life we dreamed of.

We were ready for a fresh start, a new home, and new opportunities. The thought of no longer shoveling snow in the Michigan winters was a welcome change, and the warmer weather of North Carolina called to us. We looked forward to exploring new churches, making new friends, and finding new communities. For me personally, the chance to explore more holistic approaches to managing my health was particularly exciting. In North Carolina, I found more options for holistic treatments that hadn’t been available in Michigan, and that was a game-changer in my journey toward better health.

Preparing for this move took time and patience. Once we made the decision, it took nearly a year to make it a reality. We told our parents at Christmas, two years ago, and by August of the following year, we had made North Carolina our new home. My sister and I took a trip to North Carolina during spring break to tour houses and apartments, gathering quotes and exploring neighborhoods. By June, we had applied for an apartment, received approval by July, and moved by August 1st. It was a whirlwind, but everything seemed to fall into place.

My brother, Chance, even quit his job to make the move with us, which was a big leap of faith. But God provided, and two months later, he found new employment. Our faith carried us through each uncertain moment, reassuring us that this was the path God intended for us. I remember praying for a job that would allow me to work remotely, and three months later, I landed a fully remote position that enabled us to move forward with our plans. It was a reminder that when God opens a door, He provides every step of the way.

Since moving, my health has done a complete 360. I haven’t been as sick, and my anxiety about medical emergencies has lessened significantly. The doctors and nurses at Duke have been incredible, offering compassionate care that I hadn’t experienced in years. Access to services like day hospitals, apheresis treatments, and transfusions has made all the difference. My sister Dana’s health has also improved since the move, and the overall experience has brought us closer as a family. We were already tight-knit, but this journey has strengthened our bond even more.

I wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anyone other than my brother, Chance, my sisters Lesley and Dana, and my brother Mike. They have been my rock throughout this journey, and I love them all to the moon and back. Having such a strong support system has made all the difference in navigating this transition. Though I am still building connections here in North Carolina, I’ve already met some wonderful new friends who have supported me through this healing journey. I am excited to continue growing, meeting more people, and advocating for others like me.

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Disclaimer:

The stories, experiences, and information shared on this blog are my personal views and should not be construed as professional advice. This is my personal journey, and it may not be applicable to everyone. Please consult a professional if you are seeking advice on specific health, financial, or legal matters.