December 30, 2018
Letter to my family,
Today is a somber day for me of me of sorts. It was exactly one year ago when I woke up unable to walk or even turn on the faculty or lift a pillow or even lift a cup or pour a glass of juice for myself. I couldn't get any of my
meds open so I asked a neighbor to open them and I wound up spilling them all over the counter and floor because I couldn't pick them up with my fingers. I tried to slide them into my hands from the counter. I was so terrified because I had no idea what was wrong with me.
My ex was the first to notice because I couldn't respond coherently to his messages. I couldn't type at all.
But today is a day to celebrate how far I've come. So I opened some non alcoholic 🍾 but put it in a plastic cup since I don't have a single glass left since I managed to drop them all. I dropped every single last one the same way I dropped the Starbucks when you met me in Miami.
I'm not sad, just reflective. I missed an entire year of my life but I've gained so much. I wish it had happened 10 or 15 years earlier because I had no idea how much you and grandma loved me and saved me from a future of complete disability and 40 or 50 years in a nursing home which Karen tried to force me into.
Thank you so very much for being there. For intervening and getting me the care I needed and finding me such a wonderful surgeons and providing all the aftercare I needed to make it this far.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I had no idea how much I was loved.
Liz
Sent from Gmail Mobile
No comments:
Post a Comment