Savara’s Story

Shiprock Chapter

I was born and raised in Shiprock, New Mexico. Growing up on the Navajo Nation, I was surrounded by family, culture, and the teachings passed down from our elders. One of my earliest memories is also one of the experiences that shaped how I viewed healthcare for the rest of my life.

My parents have often shared the story of when I became very sick at around four years old. Although I was very young, I surprisingly remember little bits and pieces of that experience because it was so traumatic., My parents noticed that I had a high fever and were worried, so they took me to the Shiprock hospital. After being checked, the provider told my parents that it was probably just a common cold because it was winter. They were told to continue giving me medicine, make sure I drank plenty of fluids, and that I would be okay.

But my parents knew something was not right. By that evening, my condition had gotten worse. My mom noticed that I was no longer wetting my diaper, and as a mother, she knew that was a sign that something serious was happening. Wanting to find answers, my parents took me to a Navajo medicine man.

During the ceremony, the medicine man recognized that something was wrong inside my body, specifically around my stomach and bladder area. He advised my parents that I needed to return to the hospital right away.

When we went back, doctors discovered that I had a severe urinary tract infection that had already caused damage to my kidneys. I was flown to the University of New Mexico Hospital, where I spent about two weeks receiving treatment. My parents were later told that I should not have been sent home during that first visit because my condition required more attention.

That experience stayed with me. At such a young age, I developed a fear of hospitals, doctors, and nurses. I struggled to trust the healthcare system because my first experience made me feel like my health and my life had not been taken seriously. That fear followed me into adulthood.

Years later, after graduating high school, I moved to Gilbert, Arizona, to attend college. I was working full-time while also going to school full-time, doing everything I could to build a future for myself. As I approached my twentieth birthday, my life changed again.

In March, I suddenly became very sick. I began experiencing unbearable headaches that made it difficult to sleep, focus, or continue my daily life. Then I noticed painful patches developing on my scalp. They became red, irritated, and started bleeding. The pain spread from my scalp down the back of my neck, into my hands, and throughout my legs. Nothing seemed to help. The pain became so overwhelming that I could no longer work or attend school.

For a while, I kept my struggles to myself. I didn’t want my family to worry, but eventually I called my parents and told them what was happening. Being the youngest of eight children, my family immediately became concerned. They told me to come home so we could figure out what was wrong.

I made the difficult decision to leave my job, put school on hold, and return to Shiprock.

When I came home, my parents took me to a Navajo medicine man. Through ceremony, he told my father that he needed to gather specific herbs for me to use in my healing. My father followed those instructions, and as I began taking the herbs, I slowly started to feel better. Within that week, the pain began to lessen, and the painful patches on my skin started to heal.

That experience changed me. It reminded me of the powerful connection we have with Mother Earth and the medicines she provides. During one of the most frightening times in my life, I found comfort in the knowledge that our people have carried for generations.

I am grateful that our culture still has medicine people who understand the healing power of our plants, herbs, and ceremonies. Mother Earth provides us with so much medicine, food, and everything we need to survive. But it is our responsibility to respect her, protect her, and learn from the knowledge our elders carry.

Today, I believe it is important for our younger generations to spend time with our elders and learn about the medicines that have always been a part of our people. Many of these traditional medicines have helped people with different illnesses and health challenges, and this knowledge is something that should never be forgotten.

My journey taught me that healing can come in many forms. I am thankful for modern medicine and the care that helped me survive, but I am also thankful for the traditional teachings, ceremonies, and medicines that connected me back to my culture and reminded me of the strength that has always been within our people.

Savara T, Shiprock Chapter, July 23, 2026