A second battle
Almost twenty years after beating leukemia, Amy faced breast cancer, enduring a double radical mastectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation with remarkable courage.
The moment of realization
I was by her side after her mastectomy, sitting in her hospital room, waiting for her to wake up. The moment she opened her eyes, the nurse encouraged her to try and use the bathroom. Amy, still groggy and in pain, needed help. Carefully, we attached the eight post-surgical drains and reservoirs to a giant safety pin hanging from a lanyard. With the nurse on one side and me on the other, we guided her forward, pushing the IV stand, supporting her wobbly frame.
Then, as we passed through the bathroom door—disaster. A drain snagged on the door handle. None of us noticed until Amy let out a cry of agony. My stomach dropped. I turned to the nurse, anger surging through me. “Don’t you have something better to keep these drains safe?” I demanded.
The hospital’s solution—just a safety pin and lanyard—seemed woefully inadequate for someone who had already fought so hard.
A friendship built on strength
Amy and I had been inseparable since high school. Even when leukemia forced her to miss graduation and senior traditions, our bond remained unbreakable. We missed having her by our side during those moments—at graduation, senior traditions, and as everyone prepared to head off to new adventures. But despite not sharing those typical rites of passage, our friendship carried something even more profound: unwavering loyalty, love, and the kind of bond that isn’t defined by high school or college but by a lifetime of memories and support.
She beat leukemia, went to college and became an RN to give back to those who healed her. Amy continues to inspire people with her testimonies of fighting like a warrior. It really speaks volumes about the kind of person she is—someone who took her pain and turned it into purpose. A hopeful purpose!
From frustration to innovation
Watching Amy leave the hospital with drains visibly hanging from her neck, I felt compelled to act. Using my grandmother’s sewing machine and my husband’s old t-shirt, I created the first prototype of what would become the C.U.D.D.L. Pouch.
The birth of C.U.D.D.L.
The Comfortable Undergarment Disposable Drain Lift (C.U.D.D.L.) Pouch was designed to protect patients from accidental snags while providing discretion and dignity during recovery. After a rigorous US Government patent process, the product was eventually patented and became essential for Amy’s subsequent reconstructive surgeries.
Beyond mastectomies
The C.U.D.D.L. Pouch isn’t just for breast cancer patients. It serves anyone requiring post-surgical drains—heart, lung, lymph node procedures, and cosmetic surgeries like tummy tucks and breast implants or explants.
The promise
I believe that no patient should endure unnecessary pain or indignity during recovery. With outpatient surgeries increasing, the need for safe, comfortable drain care has never been greater. Every person deserves to heal with comfort and dignity.
Bottom line: If you get drains, you need a C.U.D.D.L.!