Getting Real Part 5

   









    About month number nine, I woke up one morning. I was reaching to get something and was astonished. My fingers raised. I had no previous signs of recovery. I did not know much about crying tears of joy until then. That was one of the moments in my life where I felt "thankful" in more than just saying it aloud. I had the scars for life but not the permanent disability that had been haunting me every day. And, to be quite honest, the scars did not end up being too bad. They say in life that you don't know what you got until it's gone. I think it is even more challenging to lose it, realize what you had, and fight with everything to get it back.
   
    Despite my efforts to improve the situation, I still call this a miracle. I could have just accepted what the doctors told me, but I am glad I did not. Even though all of this time I had felt discouraged, I had realized that I believed in myself stronger than ever before. I felt this was a new beginning and could not wait to see what was next.

    And, of course, you know I had to schedule an appointment to display the miracle. I somehow believe I was not the only one who gained hope that day. I think the doctors and therapists learned something as well. I would like to believe that at least one of those people walked away with a clear vision of what happens when someone refuses to give up. I know I had talked to many people along the way that were told they were disabled, but did more than fully physically capable people do. This is one reason I have a hard time swallowing the word "can't" from someone to this day. Life happens, and usually not at the most convenient times. It takes life happening, sometimes, to create positive changes. It creates those positives in the darkest of our days. The most important result is making it through to the other side.
    
    Sometimes when the authorities give you an opinion, you still have to take your ability and desire, and use those things to dictate the outcome. The doctors were supposed to be authorities in this matter. The authorities based their opinions only with usual outcomes and results. They wrote me off due to natural prediction. The authorities in this matter, never took into consideration, the type of person I was. An educated diagnosis is still an opinion. Educated diagnosis is taught to stay within the realm of pure logic. It does not explore the realm of the impossible. Without those doctors, I would not have made the progress I made, and I can see based on their education why they would have predicted those results. However, I do think today that is why I refuse to let anyone (authority or not) predict my end result. Their opinions can continuously circle me, but not define me. They cannot dictate my direction or the impact I will try to make. Life is too short and if you believe you can do something, who has the right to make you believe otherwise?

   

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