I was in a hospital bed. Sadly, it wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. For the past few years hospitals seemed to be my second home. I’ve been in and out of the hospital, getting emergency treatment for life-threatening medical conditions. And I’d lost my twins not too long ago. Now, I was in again for hemolytic anemia--it means my red blood cells were being destroyed. No blood, no life.
My soul was battered from all the times I had to go to the hospital. Each time I went, I felt like I was hanging on to my life by a thin, weathered rope that was worn down to its last frayed threads. I wasn’t sure which would happen first: whether those threads would snap, or I would just lose my grip. Either way, that dark abyss surrounding me was waiting to swallow me whole. Was there any hope? Am I going to live to see another day? ...Is there a point in seeing another day?
I was surrounded by the people I loved though. My family and friends were there. They spoke with me, prayed for me, gave me words of encouragement.
And I’ll never forget how their words were what gave what I needed to survive. Today, I stand and breathe because of the word hope. Without hearing those hopeful words from my loved ones, I might’ve loosened my grip on that rope and tumbled into nothingness. And that’s why I started the word changes.
Thanks for reading and stay tuned for future blog posts! You can also watch a video of our Founder telling her story. Watch it here: https://youtu.be/wLCxuNkG98o