Each day, I am on the battlefield. I have been weighed. I have been measured. There is no coefficient that symbolizes the multiples of the depth of pain brought on by a crippling disease.
I have often wondered how I continue to thrive and can only find one answer- that some old crazy is keeping me alive.
Why has she chosen me? My angel professes the ultimate in courage and holds me in determined wings in her boot camp of building strength. In the angel's guiding light I have hope. If she were to let go, I would surely die, yet I know she will carry me into heaven.