I was never going to tell this story here.. not because I am ashamed of it...not because I don't want people to know. I just kinda wanted this blog to be cooking and crafts..and crazy parenting stories. But I woke up this morning with the need to tell this story...with the need to let it be known... Which you know what that means to me. Someone out there needs to hear it right now. Someone out there is where I was.. So share this story..send people to this page if you know they are fighting and need to hear it... Even when they give you no hope... there is hope.. there is always hope. I am living proof of that. I will tell it in parts..because its a very long story..and although I am proud to have fought it...telling it for me is reliving it. To be honest with you.. I wouldn't change a thing. It made me who I am today.. it shaped me and my heart.
I'm 31 and a stay at home mom... of soon to be 3 kids. I can close my eyes and I would still be riding horses down trails.. slinging mud on four wheelers ...chasing chickens around.. waiting on Friday night or Saturday morning..because that's when the adventures always began. It didn't last long enough... those care-free kid days. I lost them at 17 years old. I went for a job that required a physical. A simple finger stick changed my life. A few days after that finger stick I was told my life was over. When I was 17 years old I was diagnosed with A.M.L. leukemia. A rare and aggressive cancer. At the time they found it 39 percent of my blood was cancer. I was told no one over 18 percent had every survived it. Therefore I was terminal. They gave me 2 weeks to live. Every time those doctors opened the door and came in they had bad news...horrible news. I was then offered an experimental chemo... If I took this chemo...my hair would fall out... I would never be able to have kids not that, that mattered because I would live maybe 4 weeks. Boy did they sell it good. To a 17 year old what they just describe was as good as saying your gonna die anyways how bout you be a guinea pig first. I refused the treatment. Because in GA 17 is a legal adult and they couldn't do anything to my body that I didn't approve of. My Uncle lost his mind on me. My Uncle Bron... I was always close to the men in my family. My Dad wasn't around much... well my biological Dad I didn't meet until I was 16 years old... and my Step-Dad whom came into my life at 2 years old didn't have much time for me. But my Papa... my Uncle Bron and my Uncle Greg had plenty of time for me. I was the first born grand-baby. I was born to a teen Mom. Who loved me but my grandparents were controlling.. and so they and my Mom raised me. I bounced back and fourth between everyone in my family though. I was a village baby. What I mean is everyone had a hand in raising me. So today the person I am is as much pieces of my Mom as it is pieces of my Uncles and Grandparents...all squished into the pieces that could be only me. Back to my Uncle. I was in Atlanta 80 miles away...he drove towards me like on a mission. I believe I could even feel him heading for me. I waited in my hospital bed dreading what was coming... In stomps Uncle Bron... I figured he was mad he wasn't he was crying. Not openly but I could look in his eyes and read it. The tears he wasn't shedding in front of me. I could feel his fear..his sadness and his anger. He loved me...he wanted me to fight... we are fighters by nature.. Way too much Irish courses through our veins to lay down and take it. He begged he pleaded and eventually he conned me into it. So I took those treatments. He stayed with me through round one. Asked me if I needed or wanted anything... he would get it for me. I did. So I rattled off my list. Pizza Hut Pan Pizza with pepperoni and extra cheese, a tattoo and a corvette. He looked at me with a serious face and said I will get the pizza now... I will pay for the tattoo and hold your hand if the Dr clears it...and you will have that Corvette as soon as I can find you one.. He left and went all over Atlanta in search of Pizza Hut... Its not one of the main chains down there so it took him an hour to find one and get back. By that time I was set up for my first chemo. I sat there with chemicals pouring into that central line that had only been placed this morning. My first in what would be a long line of surgeries. I couldn't feel the chemo going in. Just like they said. I wouldn't feel any pain from it... that would come later. Anyways my Uncle Bron walked in with the pizza and sat it down. I couldn't eat. I was a bundle of nerves. He walked over to the window and said here is your Corvette...pointing to what I thought was outside. I got up excited the chemo forgotten for a moment... and padded over to the window to look down. I couldn't see a corvette in the cars below.. He said its there keep looking. So I did I kept looking... finally I turned to him and he said look down. I looked down and sitting on the window sill was a hot wheel corvette. I busted out laughing.. Called him a jerk and got back in bed. He cleared the nerves out...and so I was ready for pizza... I ate that pizza only to feel the first of the side effects kick in just a few hours later and lose that pizza.. which he was also there for.. there to hold my hand for the first treatment and he was there to hold my hair back for the first of the side effects.... he was there beside me for the whole journey...off and on... the village that raised me was all there at one point or another.... I am looking at the corvette now. It sits on my desk.. it sits on my desk and reminds me everyday...everyday is a gift..and someone I love...loved me enough to beg me to value that gift...even if it was for 2 weeks... or a month. I am just blessed it has been 14 years now... Sadly the man who loved me so much is no longer with us... he knew more about the gift of life than I realized at that time.
To be continued.....
This was just part one of a very long story...