Here it is, June 1. I am amazed this much time has passed. Two years. Two.
Two years ago today I was a sick puppy and ventured into the urgent care, on the insistence of my honey and of the nurse who I’d talked to on the phone. Urgent care to hospital via ambulance a few hours later and the adventure began.
I can’t believe it’s been two years. Wow. I’m blessed, lucky, and so very grateful for all the men and women who have, over the course of the last two years, provided me with amazing care. From urgent care numerous times to hospital numerous times to infusion centers and labs and doctor’s offices I have seen the best of what humanity has to offer. These countless people treated me and continue to with such respect and gentle understanding I am humbled. From Oregon to Illinois I’ve been lucky to know them all. The genuine way they listen and treat is phenomenal. I wish I could hug each one and let them know how much they have meant and continue to mean to me. Having told them and continuing to tell them thank you just doesn’t seem like enough.
Two years. This is a great grand life I’m living. If this experience has taught me nothing else it is that a person should constantly, to the point of over doing it, express how much they care for and love the people around them. They are what makes our life fantastic and lovely. Nothing else. So to the universe of people out there, old and new, who I know and love and who have shown such great support and love throughout not just this experience but my life, I love each and every one of you.
We reap what we sow. Backatchya Tamaramara! Through my illness, I have learned exactly the same thing. Thanks to you for being a wonderful and helpful part of my own personal journey of dealing with a terminal illness and my road to wellness and complete healing.