Small Miracles

Now I believe I have been blessed with many talents. Remembering important dates however, is not one of them. I am pretty proud that I remember the few birthdays I do remember. One day I remember though, January 13th, 2010. It's burned in my brain. It's been two years. Two years that have seemed to drag on and fly by at the same time.

Yesterday we went to Pocatello with my parents. Now I have been to Pocatello before yesterday. Yesterday however was different. Yesterday I went to the part of Pocatello that use to be my home. I went past my work, where two years ago I abruptly left my friends, co-workers, and my weekly routine. A place that had been a part of my life for the last 7 years. I also went past the hill that had been my home. Where I lived. Where I was an active part of my loving ward. Regularly I think of these places, more often I remember the people. Miss my friends. This was my life. Now it feels like a ghost of another life. A life before wheelchairs and rehab.

Two years was initially suppose to be my magic number. Two years was a good estimate of how long it would take for me to recover. Two years of hard work and faith and I thought I would be walking again, taking care of myself and my children. Two years seemed like a long time, but it was doable. These last two years have been nothing but unpredictable. In two years I have done two stints in rehab, countless hours of therapy, prayed fervently for strength, cried, laughed, watch my two sweet boys learn and grown right before my eyes, had two different diagnosis's, and have experienced many firsts again. Firsts that are experience by many, often most don't remember because we are usually young. I however remember the wonderful day I had enough strength to feed myself, the first day I wheeled myself down the hallway, the first time I could play catch with Jack, the first day I stood with my leg braces, the first day I did an independent transfer, the first day I put on my own shoes, and countless other firsts. All were great milestones. Moments I will always remember. Moments I'm proud of, but moments I wished had come sooner. Two years have gone, and while I wish everyday my original diagnosis was true and I could be recovered, I have come to be thankful for my misdiagnosis. This was a small miracle I needed. That misdiagnosis could very well play a huge roll in my recovery. If I had originally been diagnosed with Transverse Myelitis, I truly believe my outcome would have been drastically different. I have done a lot of reading. My onset was quick and extreme. Most people with onsets like I had, have little to no recovery. Now I am sure not everyone falls into that category. There are miraculous stories all around of people doing the impossible. I truly believe that being diagnosed with Guillian Barre in the beginning gave me an upper hand. Because I thought I would recover in two years I worked hard. I was approved for home health and home therapy. I can't help but wonder if I would have had this therapy, had the original diagnosis been different. The limited therapy alone could have drastically changed my prognosis.

Two years in, I thought I would be recovered. Now, two years in, I see two years behind me. I hope and pray that the last two years were my starting ground. That maybe now two years is a half way point. Two years are behind me. I can handle two more and I pray the next two are filled with many more firsts and I'm sure many more small miracles. Thank you all for your kind words of support. They truly keep me going. I will never be able to repay all that's been done for me. One day though, I'll pay it forward.

"When we get stuck in the mud, God is much more likely to assist the man who gets out to push than the man who merely raises his voice in prayer -no matter how eloquent the oration." Dieter F. Uchtdorf