When I was let go from my previous job, I did what I had always done in my career — I kept moving forward. I spent the next two to three months interviewing for new positions, staying hopeful that I could keep my professional life on track. Even as my ALS was progressing, I wasn’t ready to give up on corporate life just yet.

But somewhere during those months of interviews, I started to realize something I hadn’t fully admitted to myself before: it was time to move on. My health was changing, and I needed to focus on a different kind of fight — one that required my energy, my time, and my determination in a completely new way. That’s when I decided to apply for disability.

What I didn’t know was just how difficult that process would be.

After filling out the initial application, I waited. And waited. It took at least a month before I heard anything back from Social Security Disability Insurance. Of course, when they finally did respond, they asked for more information. I provided everything they requested right away, thinking that would help speed things up.

I was wrong.

Another stretch of silence followed. I called repeatedly over the next few weeks, speaking to one person after another, but getting no real answers or updates. Eventually, I was told my case had been assigned to an office in Long Beach, so I went in person to fill out even more forms and provide additional information. I left that visit reassured that I would be hearing something soon.

Another month went by. Still nothing.

At that point, I learned there was actually a local office in Torrance, only about 15 minutes from my house. I couldn’t get an appointment, so I decided to just show up and wait. I sat there for almost three hours before my name was finally called.

When I walked up to the window, I was greeted by a large African American woman who asked me to wait a moment. So I did — again. About ten minutes later, she returned and explained that she had needed to get approval from her manager before helping me because her last name was Foster, and they wanted to make sure there was no bias if we were related.

I couldn’t help it — I burst out laughing. It was one of those moments where the absurdity of the whole situation just hit me. She looked at me like I was crazy… and then she started laughing too. After months of frustration, it was actually a pretty great moment of human connection in a system that often feels anything but human.

She asked me a few questions, typed away at her computer, and just like that, we were done.

Two days later, I was officially approved for disability.

Six months. That’s how long the entire process took.

It’s honestly amazing how backward the system is. The amount of paperwork, the waiting, the lack of communication — it feels almost designed to make people give up. And I can understand why some people do. When you’re already dealing with a serious illness, navigating that kind of bureaucracy can feel overwhelming.

But giving up wasn’t an option for me.

The same determination I used to keep pushing through those six months is the same determination I use every single day battling ALS. This disease doesn’t get to decide my mindset. The system doesn’t get to break my spirit. I keep showing up, I keep pushing forward, and I keep fighting — because that’s who I am.

And speaking of showing up — I want to thank every single one of you who came out for the Hermosa Beach St. Patrick’s Day Parade. Once again, Team Frosty was the largest group in the parade, and seeing that sea of green, those smiles, and that incredible support was something I’ll never forget. 💚

Your energy, your presence, and your belief in this mission remind me why I keep fighting — not just for myself, but for all of us.

We’ll keep pushing forward. Together.

Frosty