Well I have a day that usually is among military. It's fitting.
Today is my Alive Day. A year ago today I was supposed to die. I had more than 2 strokes. I had a blood disease that was killing me. Doctors told the family to be ready for me to pass. Then they were going to take both of my legs off do to the blood problems plus surgeries for all the clots in my lungs and other problems.
I seriously don't remember much of the first 2 weeks. A miracle happened. I started remembering things. I could start talking words that meant things people understand. I wasn't out of the woods but after a month in the hospital they were looking to let me home. Started seeing therapists while in hospital then continued seeing them when I got home. I saw 3 therapists (physical, speak, and occupational) plus a Doctor of Psychology. Come to find out my PsyD worked with guys in my PHWFF program and knew of me and Chuck (he was a military doctor specializing with PTSD and TBI). He did help me a lot mentally. I'm not going to go into detail (it'll take me a year to write it all). After all this one of the doctors or nurses (I don't remember which) told me that someone wanted me to live. That there's more God still had more for me to do.
Am I better? No. But outside seeing multiple doctor appointments every 6 months it's up to me. All the therapists agreed they couldn't do anything else for me. Just learn what they taught (in all honesty the speech therapist did the most work for me).
So I'm a year alive in my new world. Good and bad about it. Now to look for to year 2 of being Alive. Not sure which Angel watched over me. But think it was my Dad.
Today is my Alive Day. A year ago today I was supposed to die. I had more than 2 strokes. I had a blood disease that was killing me. Doctors told the family to be ready for me to pass. Then they were going to take both of my legs off do to the blood problems plus surgeries for all the clots in my lungs and other problems.
I seriously don't remember much of the first 2 weeks. A miracle happened. I started remembering things. I could start talking words that meant things people understand. I wasn't out of the woods but after a month in the hospital they were looking to let me home. Started seeing therapists while in hospital then continued seeing them when I got home. I saw 3 therapists (physical, speak, and occupational) plus a Doctor of Psychology. Come to find out my PsyD worked with guys in my PHWFF program and knew of me and Chuck (he was a military doctor specializing with PTSD and TBI). He did help me a lot mentally. I'm not going to go into detail (it'll take me a year to write it all). After all this one of the doctors or nurses (I don't remember which) told me that someone wanted me to live. That there's more God still had more for me to do.
Am I better? No. But outside seeing multiple doctor appointments every 6 months it's up to me. All the therapists agreed they couldn't do anything else for me. Just learn what they taught (in all honesty the speech therapist did the most work for me).
So I'm a year alive in my new world. Good and bad about it. Now to look for to year 2 of being Alive. Not sure which Angel watched over me. But think it was my Dad.
