One year ago today, I woke up. And I didn't die.
That's kind of been the drill on a daily basis (obviously), but the difference that day was that I woke up in the early stages of a hemorrhagic stroke. The next 28 days would see me learn to walk again, lose the use of my arm and hand, lose a good deal of control over my voice and then redefine physical pain on a whole new scale.
The eleven months after that would test me beyond what I honestly thought I could endure sometimes, physically and mentally. I have come light years from where I was, but I also have to say that I'm not where I hoped to be by now.
Still, the important thing is I am here. Still breathing. Still firing most of my neurons, still able to go to work and hold my kids and live this life. This last year was about pushing through and redefining. This year is about living with what I've still got to the fullest.
So yeah, I'm a single mom on a limited income with a special-needs kid and now I'm disabled. That ain't grand. But it's my only life, and it's quite frequently filled with love and joy and amazing moments. I'm going to kick up my heels and dance while it lasts, even if I stagger a bit doing so. And I'm going to sing loud and laugh loud and with unapologetic gusto.
Here's the boys from Monty Python to sing me out.