Ten years ago, I was seriously ill — too weak to stand for long, battling brain fog so thick I couldn't concentrate, and feeling like my body was failing me. It took seven months and a small-town miracle for anyone to figure out why.
My symptoms had been dismissed, overlooked, and misunderstood for so long that I started to wonder if everyone thought I was a hypochondriac. No one could tell me what was wrong.
The turning point came in the most unlikely place — a tiny hospital in a small town of fewer than 9,000 people. Honestly, the only reason I went there was because it was the one health organization I didn't owe money to. Nobody goes to that hospital. But I did. And that decision changed everything.
The Diagnosis That Almost Wasn't
A brain MRI revealed lesions on my frontal lobe. The radiologist who read my images had gone to medical school in Madison, Wisconsin — where Lyme disease was prevalent. During his training, they had drilled one thing into his head: if you see lesions in the brain, test for Lyme. He listened to that training. He ordered the test.
My primary care doctor put me on antibiotics even before the results came back. And it was literally like someone flipped a switch. I started feeling human again.
Then the first test came back negative. I stopped the medication. The symptoms came roaring back. I begged my doctor to try a different test — and she listened. That second test came back positive for Lyme disease.
I found a Lyme-literate doctor out of Chicago and began real treatment. Thirteen months of antibiotics, countless appointments, and a long, slow climb back to myself.
Rock Bottom Looked Like a Dremel and a Bag of Pennies
During my recovery, I had nothing. No money. No cable TV. I applied for food stamps and public assistance just to get by. But I had seen something on the internet that sparked something in me — stamped penny keychains. I wanted to make them. I just couldn't afford to start.
My daughter saw me struggling and stepped in. She bought me my first set of metal stamps. My ex-husband picked up a bottle of Brasso metal cleaner. And I started sorting and cleaning pennies at my kitchen table.
I didn't even have a drill press. I used a Dremel tool to painstakingly drill holes in each penny, one by one. I had no idea if a single Etsy listing would ever sell. But I held onto hope.
The first time I heard that cha-ching sale notification, I cried.
Ten Years of Learning, Growing, and Never Giving Up
I taught myself everything. I smashed my fingers more times than I can count. I ruined pennies. I took product photos that were, honestly, terrible. I made every mistake a beginner makes — and I kept going anyway.
Ten years later, DayzeeCreationz is still here. Still handmade. Still personal. Still made with the same heart that sorted pennies at the kitchen table when I had nothing left to lose.
Life keeps changing, as it always does. These days, my 78-year-old mother — who has dementia — lives with me so I can help care for her. Running this business from home means I can be there for her while still doing the work I love. Every single sale makes that possible, and I am genuinely, deeply grateful for every customer who has ever chosen something handmade from me. You have no idea how much it means.
I'm expanding to my own Shopify store because the Etsy marketplace has changed. The mass-produced, drop-shipped flood of products has made it hard for real makers to be seen — and hard for shoppers to trust what they're buying. I'm still on Etsy, but I wanted my own space to grow — a place that's truly mine, where you'll always know exactly who made your piece and exactly what went into it.
Every item I create carries a little piece of that story. I hope it means as much to you as it does to me.
— Dayzee, founder of DayzeeCreationz