Dear snowflakes, as the days spent in the hospital fade away and I get on with getting a little bit better each day I wonder about how I feel about the guarded prognosis I got when I was discharged from the hospital.
Guarded in medical terms roughly means that, it is usually more ill than a serious prognosis, but not as ill as critical. The doctor is not exactly sure of what the patient’s probability for recovery might be, but they still believe that the patient has a (slight) chance of recovery.
For those of us who live with MG that “slight chance” can be filled with what ifs.
I need to hold on the that slight chance of recovery.
Recovery to a place where I was before, a healthy place. A place where I can go on with my life without worrying to much about the tight schedule I have for my meds, or about taking frequent breaks just to do some housework, or trying to not stress out too much, or keeping cool in this hell of a summer.
Breaking those new frontiers of wellness can be achieved if I hold on to hope.
Hope is the motor that moves me forward. It heals my spirit and calms my body.
Hope gives that “slight chance of recovery” a whole new light.
Hope is the foundation for our doctors, nurses and caregivers. Hope is what keeps everybody believing things will get better.
Like my neurologist told me today, “if you’re not worse, than you’re better.”
His affirmation comes from two different places, like if it’s not right than it’s left. I don’t know if I was supposed to feel good about it, but at least I didn’t feel bad either. It felt like a pat on the shoulder with a push hiding somewhere.
My experience with Gamma is that is usually makes me sicker to than get me better. Crazy dichotomy, but it’s the reality of my realm.
Facing the possibility of a new treatment ahead of me in a couple of weeks, if this one doesn’t kick off is not something I want to think about to much. Specially with Solaris being something relatively new. With all the side effects that it surely will tag along is a challenge that lays ahead.
Nonetheless, I will continue to hang on to my hope. Not only to hang on to it by myself, but to be grateful for it each day. And as the day rises and all the sounds of the new day begin announcing happily that we get to live one more day on this blue ball in the Universe I’ll write in my prayer book in contemplation asking my dear Lord to fulfill my heart and heal my body with an everlasting and eternal stream of hope.
Thanks for sharing with me a little bit of your time, be kind to yourself and remember we all heal in different ways we just need to figure out which one works for each one of us.
See you on my road to recovery.