I adore my grandson. His name is Hudson. Lately, I have had problems walking, sitting and lying down. My back, since I was diagnosed with bone cancer, attacked and fractured seven vertebrae. My life as I knew it is now long gone. I need help getting out of bed, standing up from a chair. So, taking care of Hudson alone is hard. He is an active 4 year old. Luckey, he is smart and follows directions. Our time together makes my day. I spoil him as much as I can. Without Hudson, There would be a hole in my heart. He gives me purpose, and without purpose what do you have? Nothing.
I have endured tragedy and bouts of medical testing…radiation…daily chemotherapy. My writers voice and one finger typing, in hibernation. All my energy going in different directions. Now, I once again feel like myself, thank you Jesus, I write.
Shaving the hair off my head has opened my eyes to the absurdity I have placed on the importance of having a “Good Hair Day.” I feel liberated from my own fear of being labeled, sick, by other people.
Having the cancer wreak havoc with my spine I learned to sit quietly in a wheelchair, and now feel normal walking with a cane. I cherish the road to “healing” when I keep living past my expiration date “miraculous.”
Of course, I would not be alive if it were not for my husband David, and all my friends. Life is about the people who you love enough to take care of, and vice versa.