By Erika Bohling: For Complete Post, Click Here…
When I was 13 years old I had just re-learned how to walk. I lost the use of my limbs when I was 12; having finally regained their use I thought my life had finally gotten back on track. Then I fell ill again. Shortly after, my beloved Nan passed away.
Seven years on, my life is finally starting to make sense. Something became very clear to me: dealing with being incurably sick was hard. There are many things that doctors do not tell you when you get diagnosed. If I could go back to my 13-year-old self and tell her everything is going to be OK, I would. But I can’t. So this is a letter written through the naive eyes of a chronically ill 13-year-old with the hindsight of a 20-year-old who’s on her way to figuring this all out.