Dear Doctor F. and Nurses T., M., and D.:
I am writing to inform you that I intend to progress forward mostly without you. My leg has no visible ulcerations and there is in fact no need for a dressing on it. I am without fever, my white count is within acceptable limits, and I don't feel "punky."
So while I understand that this may be temporary and that setbacks are a very real possibility, perhaps even probability, for now... adios.
Thank you for the time and energy you've poured into me in the last five months (yes, five MONTHS of biweekly appointments, at a minimum; several of those months were three or more appointments weekly, and there was a large chunk of time where they were daily necessities). I won't forget about it or you.
It's just that now, it's time to get back to the business of living.
I am a Christian. I am a wife. I am a daughter. I am a friend. I have babies in heaven. I take pictures. Love to write. I strive to show compassion.
Derek is also a Christian. He is a husband - to me. An amazing husband. He loves intensely. Laughs freely. He is strong. I am amazed when I consider that he chose ME. I love him. He loves me.
This is my Gramma. Eileen. Of everyone I have ever known, she is the one I desire to be like. She was wildly compassionate. Generous. A woman of integrity. Goofy. Cute. My hero. She is in Heaven.
Bayleigh is intense. She is small. She is beautiful. Sweet. Wild. Mischevious without limits. And she chirps.
Furbis is the epitome of catness. He is handsome. Big. Sweet. Dangerously intelligent. Strong. He breaks things. And talks.
Calliah is special. Furbis chose her. She is sweet. Not very smart. Funny. Pretty. Puts her toys in water. And the more she loves you, the harder she bites.
Izzy is super sweet. She's pretty. Passionate about playing. She licks things. She doesn't talk much. Snuggles a lot. And sleeps on my head.
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