I'm ONE!!!!!

How can it be? An entire year since my life changed.  One year ago, the tingling and burning in my body stopped.  One year ago, one very painful chapter closed while a new chapter opened.  One year ago, we watched the fireworks over the lake and felt hope again for the first time in years.  One year ago, began the emotional healing from years of slowly dying.  

My husband and I were talking the other night about how hard life was.  How he's finally in a healthy place emotionally and spiritually.  I told him how hard it was for me to watch him turn off and fade away.  It was what he needed to do in order to handle the way our life was.  He then told me how unbearable it was to watch me slowly dying.  Slowly dying, it really was that.  I was approaching the end of my rope.  I don't know how much longer I could have gone on with the treatment and schedule we had, how long I could have kept working, how long before we would have had to move in with my parents for help.  At the end of that conversation, we both had tears in our eyes.

This year has been one of healing.  My body had to endure a hard reboot in order to stop the CIDP.  I've lived this last year in as much isolation as I could to reduce my exposure to any major illness.  Thankfully, my new found appreciation for being OCD, has kept me well all year; no hospital stays, no emergencies!  Only a few colds that knocked me out for a few days.

I've started to feel things again, in more ways than one.  I hadn't realized how much I had gone into an emotional protective mode in order to survive it all.  I only felt what I had to and everything else, I managed.  

My ability to physically feel, specifically in my hands and feet is getting better and better!  My fingers are only slightly numb. I expect them to get back to normal in the next few years.  My feet and toes have more sensation than before.  My toes are still numb but nothing like they used to.  I remember in the hospital feeling like I had just taken off 5 pairs of socks.  It was an amazing feeling.  My muscles are working great and I'm able to walk and run and bike and play like I did before CIDP became an acronym we knew by heart.

If I had to sum up this year, it's been one amazing feeling after the other.  This journey to healing has been hard, so hard, but its also been amazing.  I now have the opportunity to share my story, my life, with countless people all the time.  I get to share about the loss of life and the desperation we had on finding a cure.  I get to watch these same people process the possibility of not having to be on medications (that have tons of side effects) for the rest of their lives.  

I am so thankful that I get a second chance at an almost normal life.  I am so thankful that my boys won't always have memories of mommy being sick all the time and not being able to play.  I am so thankful that my husband no longer has to stand by and watch me slowly fade away.  I am so thankful that we are able to heal from these 5 years of struggle and pain.

We received a ton of support and love from our family and friends.  This has been a year that I can look back as the one in which my community came together to help me live again.  You guys ROCK!!!!

Despite the healing, there are some wounds that will always remain, wounds from people that we once called friends.  I can understand why they left.  I can see how they could have thought everything was fine, because from the outside, we looked completely fine.  These friends didn't understand or maybe care to understand what was happening in our little world.  I think they missed out.  They missed out on witnessing a miracle up close.  Seeing door after door open was amazing, and we kept walking through.  We kept trusting that this was what we were supposed to do, and God kept providing.  These former friends, wounded us greatly.  At a time when we needed the most support, they chose to push us away.  Sadly, many people take this route, leaving because they don't know how to help when the situation is so bleak.  The best thing you can do is simply show up.  Bring dinner, play with their kids, even to sit and read a book in the same room may be just what your friend needs.  I emplore you, do not leave your friend when it gets hard, sit with them between the rock and the hard place and pray together for relief.

What's next?  I don't know.  Who knows what this next year will hold.   Maybe we will get back to singing again.  Maybe we won't.  But it's amazing knowing that it's at least an option.

To a new life, as we continue on our journey to healing.