Then. Now.

May 2013: Corina and Me

Four years ago, I traveled to DC for one of the most special, memorable and meaningful visits of my life--to meet three other women with whom I had spent a decade corresponding with on a forum for dysautonomia.

My friend, Corina, re-posted a pic of our wonderful memory of meeting one another.

FOUR YEARS AGO.

May 2013: Corina, Nina, Katherine and Me

It took a Herculean effort to get to DC to see these women.

I saw the picture that Corina posted of me in the Rolls--cooling vest and all--headed out to a meal with her. She held my hand the whole way.

I struggled through every moment of the time we all had together. Every moment.

These photos, these memories from years past hit me hard.

So. Hard.

April 2017: Inner Harbor, Baltimore, Visiting Dr. Rowe

Because yes, there was joy. Lots of joy in those hard years.

But it was always through suffering, within suffering, while suffering, part of suffering.

Now, joy can come more fully, sometimes completely, without awareness of physical suffering.

Not always, but sometimes. 

When suffering is present, it is minor compared to just four years ago.

February 2017: Sunset Beach, NC

Corina's post of me just four years ago came a couple of days after I published my post on being The Face of Medicaid. 

In it, I wrote about how much the ACA and Medicaid Expansion has contributed to my ability to achieve improved health.

I said: I don't think it's a coincidence that my health has improved at the same time that my access to care has also improved.

If I needed a visual, if you needed a visual, if the world needed a visual of the changes that can happen with a combination of good health care, hard work, good doctors, family support, and two puppies, here it is.

No Rolls

This isn't intended to be a political post. It's intended as a post of pure, simple, awe-inspiring gratitude for the healing I have experienced.

As painful as it is for me to see the photos of me during the sickest days of my life--actually I don't HAVE photos from those days--it's also the most humbling, overwhelming and gratitude-inspiring reminder of how far I've come, how much I love this new life, and how much I want to keep healing.

Then. Now.

I choose NOW.

Blessings,

Emily