Okay. . .So [Bad] Poetry Isn't Your Thing. . .

[The title is a reference to the previous post.]

I realize to sustain blog readership a blogger has to post on a consistent basis.  Since I have never been a big numbers gal, doing this blog more for a journal for my family and friends, I don't sweat posting on a daily [weekly, monthly] basis.  Still, I do think of y'all everyday.

Although it has been a pretty successful year, we have had our ups and downs with my health. That I am here to celebrate another holiday season is actually a miracle.  And I don't mean that in a throw away, your every day, "can't believe I passed the geometry test" kind of miracle. I truly believed that as sick as I was when I entered the hospital in February that I was not coming out alive.  If you read the last post before I was admitted I wrote about ordering groceries to be delivered, paying all the bills and finishing our taxes. What I didn't mention was that I had also written my will and planned my funeral. Basically, I put all my ducks in a row for my death. Not an easy thing to do when you are only 45 years old. Pooldad and I thought we knew how sick I was, but when we got to the emergency room we were surprised to find it was even worse.

Okay - with ALL that said - TA DA! I am still here and better for it.  I am not only healthier than I was earlier this year, but I have changed as a person.  I truly believe that I was given the gift of life through a miracle. A miracle that I prayed for, my family prayed for and my friends prayed for.  I know I owe a lot to the doctors for their knowledge and hard work in saving me, but even they couldn't tell us [and still can't] how I came to be so close to death.  They know the reason, just not the cause. They threw everything they had at me, took every test they could, even going as far as to treat ailments they thought I "might" have because they simply couldn't explain everything.  I continue with treatment, but I know there is something else which sustains me.

I have always felt when I survived my first hospitalization back in 2010 that I was kept here for a purpose. There was a reason I didn't die that time either.  Even the doctors used the word miracle for the fact that I hadn't died at home knowing how long and how ill I was.  Now here it is 2 1/2 years later and God has done it again.  The doctors still don't know everything that is wrong with me, but they are treating the maladies they know they can and have thankfully cured me of one.

I have never been an overtly religious person, but I have always believed in a higher power. My higher power just happens to be [the Christian] God. Those that have read my blog for any amount of time ::HI Tadpoles!:: know I don't talk religion [or politics] and that I respect everyone's beliefs.  I just hope that anyone that reads this or stumbles across my blog can afford me the same courtesy. :)

I didn't start out this post to write about God, nor do I think once I got started on the subject have I done it a bit of justice.  I guess this has been on my mind a lot lately and when I sat down at the computer this is the stream of consciousness that came out of head.  Or you can blame the meds - your choice ::wink::

Just know that every morning I am on my knees, praying and during my prayers I thank God for each and everyone of you. 'Tis true.  I know how lucky I am to be here, but I especially know how lucky I am to have been graced with friends such as all of you.

Thank you Tadpoles.  xo Skippy