Not today, Death.

One year ago December 1, I entered the hospital for a NSAIDs bleed with a heme level of 3. (Yep, I am a legend in medical circles.)

I then went through a stint in ICU, a faulty diagnosis, two pelvic fractures, Hepatitis A, and the death of my mother and my cat. I even had my very own Angel of Death – a distant, random FB “friend” who visited me and called me a “dead woman walking.” She told me daily, in person and in text, I was going to die, that “time was short” and she’d help me plan my “arrangements.”

When I finally came home after 2 months (missing the entire holiday season), my Prince Harry had turned into a skinny, grouchy old man who refused to speak to me for most of this year. I learned to walk with a walker, crutches, and finally graduated to a cane. I quickly plowed through my savings and most of my retirement savings paying medical bills and basic utilities. There were times I even worried about food because DSS is a giant cluster (thank you, Rachel Hunt, for helping me get my benefits).

Yet – I’m still alive. Still here. Still standing.

Well played, Death. But not today.

Not today.