
She, was born a fighter. Pound for pound, her heart, as endearing as they come. Her endurance, would be tested, her love strengthened. The seventeen year battle, a lifetime of pain, takes its toll. Some days, you bet it’s a struggle, but, our faith is real. Two thousand and eight, the doctor approached, and said; “you shouldn’t still be standing, yet alone breathing.” The issue, her blood; a massive clot, should have already taken your life.” He marveled, he wondered; “what’s keeping her up?” She laughed, under her breath said; but God, staying vertical. And so, she looked at her finger, the ring; knowing she had someone in her corner. A man, the love no myth, the legend would be; till death… True love, not about the stamina, but the heart, and the pledge. During, the decade long fight, an underlined complication, waged an intense assault. An aggressive contender, began a profound campaign. Trying, to rupture her voice, take her sight, collapse her lungs, fracture cognitive harmony. In this last battle, the blow was to her head. And, her legs gave out, and down she went. The doctor’s diagnosis, her condition caused, a rare kind of stroke, partial left sided paralysis. But, the towel wasn’t thrown, and who’s keeping score, or what’s even in the cards? As, long as she’s still breathing, and able to get back on her feet, the fight will continue; one day at a time. Fear, will never get her to believe, continuing is impossible. Every day, she dares, to show herself; her faith, makes it possible. Six weeks ago, she could barely move her left side. Last week, she once again had full range of motion, in her left arm. This week, she stood on her own for the first time, and with assistance from a walker, she’s walking. Her heart, defying the notion, her Will had no power. She’s, rehabilitating her worth, building her confidence; my wife, she’s a fighter!
This post is an updated, and lays out a bit of the history, what my wife has been fighting over the years. There’s no doubt about it, she’s a fighter, with someone forever in her corner, not willing to throw in the towel, or away our faith. It’s been six weeks since, and she’s fighting her way back, and will hope be home, in three to four weeks, ready to fight the next contender. Working two jobs, visiting her every day, sometimes twice a day, takes a lot out of you. But, my heart will continue the beat, until she’s home!
WCR










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