It is hard to imagine how not knowing about a diagnosis can give you hope, but for me, that is just what it did. I lived with hope, hope in the belief that I would get better and that whatever was wrong with me, would right itself. I was comforted by hope.
I believed that what I was dealing with was only temporary and that with each passing day, through exercise, I would physically heal. Looking back, those thoughts, although conflicting at times, saved me.
But doing my daily foot exercises and seeing no change in my foot shape, meant I must have subconsciously known that my foot wasn’t going to heal, but I go back to hope: I saw my other issues as challenges to be met, and that made me believe I would heal. Of course, today I think and know differently. My foot wasn’t going to heal and neither was anything else. I needed to be realistic.
Looking back, I believe spirit was trying to protect me, because even though no one else was asking or answering my questions, I wasn’t quite willing to give up on myself. Although I didn’t know and I never understood what was wrong, I continued to live in the hope that I would find out more, at least get a diagnosis. I never gave up on that. As a child, those thoughts continued to remain and be my primary focus.
If I had given up, I wouldn’t have learned about my diagnosis or my symptoms and I wouldn’t be writing my memoir. It’s always easy to throw in the towel, but I still believe that whatever our circumstances, it is important we continue to live with hope.
We must want to evolve, to learn, to grow, to change. It doesn’t change how we get to where we are, our experiences will always remain the same, but through growth we allow ourselves to move on into a much better head space.
I believe we owe it to ourselves to live with hope and to strive for the best possible outcomes.