A gift

Looking back at my Easter post about having Covid19, I wanted to return to this paragraph...

And what if thinking you are going to die becomes a gift going forward? Surely you don’t sustain such high temperatures without knocking out an unwelcome bacteria or two? I’m keeping everything crossed that this may just have been a blessing in disguise. For example, people talk about losing their sense of smell through CV. I haven’t been able to smell for years thanks to Lyme. But I’ve got an incredible sense of smell back again in the last week! The fatigue I’ve known for so long? I’ve only had an amazing sense of energy throughout this recent battle, give or take feeling a bit pooped in the last couple of days. Just maybe, my broken body has undergone some repairs in the process? 

Astonishingly, it appears to continue to be the case; I AM WELL. The energy I speak of remains, and I am better than I've been in a decade. I am literally pinching myself every single morning on waking pain free. I have yet to research 'fever therapy' but understand that it is a thing. Meanwhile, I'm just happy to think of my brush with Covid19 as a gift. Please God, long may this last.

I choose life - A poem

Recently, I said to my husband Simon, 'I thought I was going to die.' He replied, 'I thought you were going to die.' In the midst of being desperately ill, I wrote this poem for my children. What began as a eulogy - in case I wasn't able to let my two beautiful daughters know some of the simple stuff about me - soon morphed into a mantra of positivity; as I shifted into believing this disease would not take me, I was going to live to tell them myself.