Last Friday, my dear high school friend, Susan, spent precious time with her dear friend, Shelly, whom she’s not seen since March, though, until the pandemic changed all of our lives, they’d enjoyed dinner, together, every Monday night.
As I remember enjoying Shelly, once or twice in the Midwest, before her traumatizing horrific accident, about 30 years ago (memory recalls not a clue about her husband), I asked Susan to convey my best wishes to Shelly and her family for a sweet and peaceful New Year—hopefully, with Biden’s intelligence heading up the Oval Office, making lawful, compassionate decisions in hopes of bettering life for one and all —
Many years ago, the freak accident that severed the nerves in Shelly’s spine from her arms and legs terrified me so completely that anxiety erupts, even today.
Shelly and her mom were visiting her fTher’s grave when the blade of an automatic lawn mower flew through the air, landing in such a way on Shelly’s back so as to sever nerves in Susan’s beloved friend’s spine—changing Shelly’s life and that of her family, forever.
Over this past year, I’ve felt as though a freak, life changing accident happened to me.
Whereas, to my good fortune, modern medicine offered my heart and lung a miracle cure, Shelly continues to await a breakthrough in stem cell research, which may be derailed, yet again, if trump hurries through yet another rightest appointment, replacing the wisdom that graced the chair belonging to Ruth Bader Ginsburg for many a year ...
Seventeen years ago, when my cardiac and thoracic surgeons were young within their fields of expertise, two dear friends, diagnosed with lung cancer, succumbed to this dreaded illness, which, hopefully, I’ve been cured of. I state that belief in curative medicine with conviction for this reason—upon declaring me a likely candidate for surviving both life saving procedures, administered one day apart, every mega brain on my medical team concurred that they would not have me endure the difficult recovery that I’m currently making my way through unless the series of studies that led me toward candidacy indicated the ‘surety’ of dual surgeries being CURATIVE in nature. And it’s the word CURATIVE that offered my intelligence sound reason to take many leaps of faith, during these misery packed, pain ridden twelve months in which my entire sense of self has worked wholeheartedly upon regaining a mindful connection to good health, which my shocking diagnosis had torn away from my personal connection to safety until the oncology team of masterminds in Houston gifted my deeply shaken connection to peace of mind with the word CURATIVE, which I take out of my mind to polish up, daily.
And now, being that everyone I love is inclusive of you, please stay well and go in peace, dear friends, because you and our life long friendship with brotherhood are two of my heartfelt, irreplaceable treasures.
🙋🏻♀️❤️😘Annie
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