Dear Ultimate,
Thank you for all you have been doing for me. I am not always as positive and grateful as I could be. There are days I let the fear of what almost happened during the last attempt to do a procedure on me color what might happen during this next attempt. Yes, I could have died, but I did not and for that I am grateful. Yes, putting me on the surgical table again is risky, but it is a different surgeon, a different hospital, a different team of specialists, and they have all the knowledge from what happened the last time
Yes, it is scary, but I have to remember Dr Broderick’s words that she would not put me on the table if she could not safely take me off the table alive. I have to remember that she will be able to see things because of the Ultrasound Dr who will be with her. They did not have that the last time. I have to trust her and know she is doing everything she can to find out what is growing inside me, remove it, treat it, and keep me safe.
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This last week I was reminded why it is so important to have someone to ask you questions, which hold a mirror up to your life in a new way. It wasn’t even that it was a question; it was more of an assignment. It wasn’t even the assignment; it was me and what I saw and came to understand about my life. I came to realize that my spinal problems all began during the time in my life when my support system began to disappear and the less supported I felt, the more problems I began to experience with my back and knees.
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I guess there are all kinds of ways of dialoguing with people. for me, one way is through poetry. I have so many memories of times when I have felt supported and of times when I have supported others. The first person that came to my mind was Mikey. I have no idea where you are right now, but I have never forgotten you. It was 1970 something and my high school sweetheart gave me this ring as an expression of her love and commitment to me. She tragically died in 1975, at the age of 19. More than a decade later, I had very few things in my life that reminded me of our relationship, but I had this ring. It wasn’t anything fancy. It was this cheap little ring with an open heart, but I wore it all the time. That was until this one particular day in 1980 something. I can’t remember the exact year or dates, but what I do remember is this young five-year-old boy. His name was Mikey. What I remember about Mikey was his first day at the summer day camp. It was his first time to be separated from his mom. He was terrified and scared and nothing seemed to keep him from crying
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