Our trip to Disney was truly magical. The girls and I got to spend real time together. Our vacation allowed us to heal and bond as a family of 5 which is something we have not been able to do in a very long time. For that and for all of the people who helped make it happen, I am eternally grateful. However, it also had it’s own bitter-sweet moments.
Unfortunately, my health declined as the week progressed. By Friday and Saturday I was so sick I had to hang back at our room. It was a hard reminder of my health situation. So the week became a power play between the forces of gratitude in my heart and reminders that this was a final vacation for the Ross family. My doctors urged me to take this trip “immediately” and reminded me that “this may be the healthiest you will ever be.”
The difficulties that I face all seemed to catch up to me late on the night before we went home. I sat up in our bed at the Disney resort and it felt like a bus had parked on my chest. Maybe it was a panic attack. I so desperately wanted to wake up and have my terminal diagnosis to have been a nightmare. It was like a strange drowning sensation. I wanted a lifeline. I wanted more hope than the doctors are giving me. I wanted a way out.
I called this blog Fierce Hope because it’s all about me fiercely fighting for my life. That is what I intend to do. Not because I’m braver than anyone else. Not because I’ve found some secret source of strength beyond my children. But because this is my reality, and I’m not in the business of avoiding the truth.
I am determined to do what it takes. This week will be about setting up whatever meetings I need to have. It will be about knocking on all the doors and kicking them down when needed. Despite what the doctors tell me, I simply refuse to believe that I can’t fight this.
With Fierce Hope,