Some flowers, some other wishes, but mostly some thoughts.
I was born sickly. Well, deathly sick. Liver was the real problem, but the liver as the source of the problem was not diagnosed until I was 15, at which time my Doctor informed me and my Dad I would not live 6 months, as nobody could live with 2% liver function for longer. Dad and I decided to keep Mom in the dark about that. It was years and years later she was told. I remember the the doctor asking my dad if he thought I could handle the truth. Dad said yes.
My reaction as a 15 yr old was to try to see the world through books. I made it 6 months past the deadline, and actually put myself in college by driving by one, seeing people line up at offices, and I told them my parents would pay for it. My parents did, although they thought it was a waste, as I was always gonna die, blah blah... I made some money teaching ballet, which I could not actually do, but could teach.
A state university. My Mom drove me to school on my bad days, and she did crochet in the car, and I did the classes thing. A bad day meant that I could not put my foot on the gas or the brake due to arthritis. A really bad day meant I could not chew food.
Massive amounts of prednisone got me to the point where I could drive. My parents did not have to pay for my colege beyond the first yesr.
And look like some bald, fat woman from outerspace. From HomeComing Queen to freak. Did you know a liver malfunction could cause arthritis that made your ankle, jaw, neck, knee, not work? Jaw. Arthrisis of the jaw. Eat that!
My basic goal was to die educated. I remember lying in a hospital bed for weeks at the time, reading the World Book. My parents would bring me the "L" book, or "A" book.
In between hospitalization, and it was all the time, I rode horses, worked cattle, farmed, lived some country life, and even Houston city life.
My Houston physician was Dr. Earl Brewer. He attended the kids of the Saudi King. And he saved my budding but sorry ass. He diagnosed me, treated me until I was 30 yrs old, when I was pronounced completely well. Not in remission. Well.
I remember him parading drs. to just look at me, take my pulse, and he assured me I was in the medical books.
Half my life has been sick, the other half wondering if the first half was residual.
All of it was Democrat, without which I would not be here to advocate for the party.
Dad was Army, them mail man, so I had health insurance, and I wish this for everyone.
I wish for everyone 60 interesting years.