Dear me – and the body that’s been through it all with me,
I’ve spent a lot of time over the past 11-and-a-half years wishing we could do things differently; that stairs weren’t so steep, that buttons weren’t so tricky to fasten, that common colds weren’t so dang hard to kick. We’ve been here before, on the precipice of big treatment days, and I have no doubt we’ll be here again. This time feels a little different, though.
This time last year, the term “immunosuppressed” weighed heavily – we were in the middle of a terrifying time when immunosuppression was even less idea than it usually is, and I was scared. I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to be my best for my boys, or what they might see or need to understand.
Turns out, we had a pretty good year. This big new treatment I was so nervous about is the best thing we’ve done in a while. Sure, the heat, humidity, snow, and those dang stairs still tripped us up (not pun intended), but we had some big wins, too. More beach days, more solo adventures with the boys because I knew I could handle it, and more saying “I feel good” and really meaning it.
So, as we head into Year 2, I owe you a big thank you. Thank you for hanging tough, for showing up, and for jumping off that precipice with me for hopefully the last time in a while. So, as we head into this month together, I promise to remember how thankful I am right now.
Let’s do this.
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