It seems nearly impossible to me that it’s virtually the end of February. Give me a couple of weeks and I’ll be headed home for spring break, and then a week after that, I’ll be off to Peru. And all of this makes me think, so far so good.
I hesitate to compare the present with the past - but the comparison begs to be made. Last semester was a matter of surviving, amongst constant obstructions and weekly hospital visits. Being pulled from class to brood in a hospital bed was disconcerting: I would wake up unsure if I was in my dorm room or a hospital room, I was endlessly frustrated and yearned to simply sit in a classroom and take notes. It doesn’t seem like the most glamorous of dreams, but perhaps all of my dreams are mostly ordinary things.
I take a certain pleasure and excitement as I head to class and learn. It is too overwhelming to recognize that I haven’t missed a class this semester, save for coming back a week late after my surgery. I’ve been able to see my friends, even make friends, go for runs, go to the gym, and eat (and enjoy it!). What a difference a semester can make.
But before I take all of the credit, let me remind myself that I wouldn’t be here without my parents, my friends, or the doctors and surgeons who listened to me and stood by my side. For me, it underlines the importance of fighting for being heard - even if it’s an ongoing battle - and believing in myself and what my body was feeling.
It’s days like these when everything seems possible, when the road stretched before me looks so exciting that I cannot wait to run down it. I can only hope for the same for everyone else.
Jennie
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