The Renew Year
A year ago today I checked into the hospital at the insistence of my parents for what would be nine pretty awful days. My stupid broken body had fought against itself to the point where I could not eat or drink at all. I was skin and bones with an IV in my arm keeping me alive. Something clearly needed to change. So a few days later, a surgeon who I had only met three days before but who I will never forget sliced open my stomach, through the muscles and sinew to cut out a foot of my small intestine, viciously inflamed and days, or perhaps hours, away from a sepsis inducing and likely deadly perforation.
Today I hate to touch or even look at my stomach and the deep purple scar that cuts across it. But I have skin hue like a human again. I have light behind my eyes. I can eat. I get medication that tells my immune system to cool it and stop fighting itself.
The nature of my disease is that I’ll never be better, but today I feel good. And for that I am grateful.