It occurred to me yesterday that it would be a year ago today that I had my last ambulance ride to the hospital for my mini-stroke, aka, TIA. When I woke the day after Father's Day, I got out of bed and promptly fell into the floor because I "had no legs". I sat there about 30 minutes before I scooted myself into the hall where I awakened Justin, my son, and he carried me to the couch where I called 911 and slurred my way enough so that the dispatcher knew I needed help.
After about 3 days in the hospital in fair condition, and months of Physical, Speech, and Occupational therapies, I slowly recovered to where I began.
That being said, I am grateful that today started out as any other day. The new treatment regime for the immune disorder, while makes me very tired, actually makes me feel better. I am grateful for the doctors at Vanderbilt for trying this on me. As I said last week to the Dr., "I don't feel like death on a cracker".
Moral of the story, while true, is:
Never take for granted your days. Love hard, play hard, and forgive easy.
xoxo
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