Letter Three

Dear Vera,

Where do I begin? It's November 3, 2010 and this journey started on September 14, so I have a bit of catching up to do. I'm going to warn you that this letter is going to be lengthy; perhaps you should know who I am. You could say that I'm an informant for people like you, meaning those that wonder what's going on and are to shy or polite to ask questions. I'm 19 and new to this path. This is my story.

The beginning of this journey was quite a shocker, although we had some suspisions. I have a sister that is in her third year of this journey, and we are very much alike. It was just a twinge, and could be ignored. Then came the 15th, and it was an ache. By the time Thursday rolled around, it was an incredible pain that could no longer be ignored. I called off work, went to the infamous Dr. D, and was put on bed rest. That was great, for all of 24 hours.


It was Friday, around 2pm that we decided to make the drive to MBMC. This place is legendary in our family because of Sister Two's journey. Doctors, nurses, technicians, and orderlies alike recognized Sisters One and Two. The people were incredible. After a few questions I was quickly ushered into a triage room where I was to spend the next seven hours. IVs, ultrasounds, and numerous pain meds later; they decide it was best that I stay the night to continue with tests in the morning. Saturday passed in a blur of pain. Sunday I was moved to a private room and it was Monday that I received the life changing, world crashing news that I was diagnosed with Stage Two Yellow.

The next morning,Tuesday, I had an operation to clean out my abdomen cavity from all the blood that was just hanging out in there. Friends and family alike gathered in the waiting room; visitors were a constant throughout the day. Dr. D said I cried through the whole operation; I don't remember a thing. I woke up and knew that I felt a thousand times better. My mom flew in Monday night, so she was there for the surgery and stayed with me for about a week. She was incredible, as were Sisters 1,2 & 3.

Call me crazy, but one week after surgery, I was on a plane headed to Houston. It was crazy and exhausting, but very much worth it! I saw a ton of my friends; old and new alike. I hadn't yet dealing with the side affects of all the medications, nor the emotional and mental battles that would later come. I think I'll leave that for another day.

Praying you won't have to deal with this,
Ktr