Dearest Self:

Life has been challenging these past few years, which is undoubtedly an understatement. Despite these challenges, you should be so grateful for your ability to persevere through hardship–something you learned as a child. You should be proud of your wherewithal as you show your resilience through insurmountable pain. Without those character traits, you may not be here today to share your story of what it looks like to survive AGAINST ALL ODDS.  

When the Camp Fire tore through the community of Paradise, California, on November 8, 2018, taking anything and everything in its path, including your home of 30 years, you thought that it would be the worst, most painful experience in your life. As it turned out, you were wrong. 

During the summer of 2021, your family suffered a second catastrophic fire—the Dixie Fire, which consumed your little lake house, as you call it, at Lake Almanor, California. Although you called it your lake house, your cabin was not near the lake, nor was it a traditional house. It was a refurbished mobile home constructed in the 1970s but remodeled into a cute cabin style–all the walls had tongue and groove wood throughout, with cabin-like decor in every room. It was a place where your youngest son and husband retreated after your family home burned to the ground.

Little did you know that one year later, in March of 2022, you would sustain a fall in your classroom that would drastically change your life. Eventually, your beloved teaching job ended because of the injury you suffered in your classroom.
 
Within two years of the Dixie Fire, life continued to be challenging. For some time, you dealt with a nagging cough and the feeling of breathlessness. Do you remember driving down the freeway one day after work, talking with your dearest friend from Paradise? As you spoke, she reminded you that you should see a doctor about your cough. If you were being honest about life, you had put off going to your doctor because of the ongoing chaos and, frankly, depression that you felt. During the summer of 2022, after going through a variety of tests, you were diagnosed with a progressive, irreversible, and terminal disease: Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. 

Do you remember sitting on your patio after your doctor gave you the news? You sat there in shock. You were stunned–at that point, you expressed utter sadness that you would likely die of the same disease your father had died of. At that point in your life, you would never have guessed that a nagging cough would lead you down this path. 

That next year of life, 2023, you had to get used to attending many specialist visits–from appointments with two different pulmonologists, a cardiologist, a neurologist and a Physical Therapist. What seems just insanely unfair and tragic at the same time is that one year after receiving your IPF diagnosis, in October of 2024,  you would receive news of a second terminal illness–Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, which is a rare neurodegenerative brain disease. 

Most people you tell your story to often look at you with sorrow and amazement. They usually say something to the effect that you are a survivor. You’ve frequently shared that you are living because there is no other choice. You have the support of a fantastic husband of 38 years, two adult sons, your sisters, and several lifelong friends. Plus, you have two faithful Akita dogs to live for. You have lost your autonomy these past few years and often depend on your hubby to help you with daily tasks. You walk with a walker now–your brain is a bit slower, as are the words you speak, and your gait is a little bit wonky. Your stamina is much less these days, and you have often complained that you sleep more than you’d like to admit. 

You recently shared that although you’ve lost material possessions and (some of) your independence over the past 6 years, you’ve gained a new perspective-enjoy each day as you live it and love each person like it’s the last day you’ll spend with them. None of us are guaranteed a tomorrow. YOU are an example of a true fighter. As you tell anyone who wants to listen to your story, you will not go down without a fight. You will never allow fires, a severe back injury, or even two terminal illnesses to define who you are. You will continue to fight the battle until there is no fight left in you. You should be PROUD of who you have become. YOU  are a survivor, AGAINST ALL ODDS.