I am courageous
in more ways than one.
Today I had
to go to the doctor and have them show me how to stick myself with needles for
my condition. I was convinced that my fear of needles wouldn’t matter because
the casing of the medication hides them from me. Well, apparently that is less
than true, because when the nurse started telling me about the needles and how
I have to watch the plunger go all the way down, I had a little panic attack.
Then I
remembered that even though I’m scared of needles, these needles would make me
better; this fear is a good fear.
Over the last
six months I have met with over fourteen health experts, drastically changed my
diet and my lifestyle and accepted the fact that I might have to remove a part
of my body someday just so I can stay alive. Someone asked me yesterday how I
deal with it, and I told them that I have no choice. But honestly I do. I could
cry and whine about my illness and pray to make it go away, but that won’t
change anything.
I have recently come to terms with the fact
that I am brave. I have many friends who told me that they would never fly
by themselves. I flew to Oregon to visit a friend and got into a stranger’s car
to go find him.
Not many
people can say that they have published a book. Putting my work out there is
one of the most terrifying things I can imagine. But my wonderful boyfriend
helped me find the courage to E-publish through Amazon.
Courage isn’t
always jumping out of airplanes or swimming with sharks. The bravery it takes
to make it through a tough day is sometimes the greatest courage you can have. I
am not afraid of fire or spiders or bugs or dirty dishes or mud or anything
else so mundane. My fear of revolving
doors is yet to be resolved, but I’m getting there.
Challenge to
my Readers:
Admit to
something you fear and plan a way to get over it. Whether it’s bugs or heights,
knowing what you are afraid of is the first step to being brave.
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