In the year since, I have lost and regained my strength a handful of times. I have felt, oftentimes simultaneously, great joy and great sadness. I have suffered and I have lived with pain. It has been the hardest year, the scariest year, the saddest and best year.
Some days I work so hard so I never have to fight like that again; some days I lie in bed and let myself sink into the weight of it all. But more and more, I look forward and I do not fear. I give into suffering less even as my pain increases and my anxiety beats a wild hummingbird song inside me.
I must go on; I want nothing more than blue skies and kisses from my girls, and trips with my friends, text messages with my cousins, love from everyone and all of you. I write now. I exist. I keep on.
And while today marks a significant date in my medical history, I look toward the life I have built in spite of it, and I thank everyone who has helped me stand back up. Into the light we go.