My doctors call me The Miracle Girl. And they have good reason.
When I was nineteen I was told that I had Acute Lymphoblastic Leukaemia and that it was unlikely that I would live beyond the end of the week. And that was over twenty years ago!
But, as in all the best Fairy-tales, the battle to defy the odds and stay alive and dancing has left its scars. Rapunzel’s Prince lost his sight for love; Sleeping Beauty slept for 100 years; the feet of Hans Anderson’s Little Mermaid bled with every step she took on the road towards mortality. And so my miraculous second chance at life has come at a price.
As the degenerative damage to my endocrine and neurological systems (caused, ironically, by the bull-in-a-china-shop treatment that saved my life) increases, so the window in my day when I can be up and dancing is shrinking. Now on a good day I have no more than an hour out of bed to engage in life before my fits kick in, the clock strikes midnight and my fairy-godmother coach turns back into a pumpkin.
So my awesome husband, Lorenzo – my own Prince Charming – calls me The Little Mermaid. But, like her, I am determined not to let the pain keep me down. My Little m jewellery collection, forged during that precious window of opportunity each afternoon, is my latest exciting outlet for my irrepressible impulse to create and, I am hoping, by contributing to Teen Cancer America and their invaluable mission my way of giving something back for the gift of still being here.
I am now creating beaded bracelets in support of Teen Cancer America and you can find a few for sale on the following page. https://www.teencanceramerica.org/shop
My doctors call me The Miracle Girl. And they have good reason.
When I was nineteen I was told that I had Acute Lymphoblastic Leukaemia and that it was unlikely that I would live beyond the end of the week. And that was over twenty years ago!
But, as in all the best Fairy-tales, the battle to defy the odds and stay alive and dancing has left its scars. Rapunzel’s Prince lost his sight for love; Sleeping Beauty slept for 100 years; the feet of Hans Anderson’s Little Mermaid bled with every step she took on the road towards mortality. And so my miraculous second chance at life has come at a price.
As the degenerative damage to my endocrine and neurological systems (caused, ironically, by the bull-in-a-china-shop treatment that saved my life) increases, so the window in my day when I can be up and dancing is shrinking. Now on a good day I have no more than an hour out of bed to engage in life before my fits kick in, the clock strikes midnight and my fairy-godmother coach turns back into a pumpkin.
So my awesome husband, Lorenzo – my own Prince Charming – calls me The Little Mermaid. But, like her, I am determined not to let the pain keep me down. My Little m jewellery collection, forged during that precious window of opportunity each afternoon, is my latest exciting outlet for my irrepressible impulse to create and, I am hoping, by contributing to Teen Cancer America and their invaluable mission my way of giving something back for the gift of still being here.
I am now creating beaded bracelets in support of Teen Cancer America and you can find a few for sale on the following page. https://www.teencanceramerica.org/shop