Hello my dear friends and family.
As many of you know, our family has been hit (yet again) with another major diagnosis.
(My beautiful, always protective and caring Princess)
This past week we found out that the youngest Type One Trio member has been diagnosed with JME (Juvenile Myoclonic Epilepsy). For the fifth time in five years we have been blindsided. Normality continues to be warped into a jumbled mess of grief and hardship. I look at our life and momentarily wonder if there is any control in the chaos? If there is any relief in the pain?
Obviously, epilepsy is even more complicated with Type One Diabetes. Low blood sugars alone can send Hannah into a seizure. Complications come with this new diagnosis as well. It's not just "simply" Type One. It is now fighting the reality that every night we watch Hannah head to bed, there are two diseases with the ability to send her young body into danger.
I live for hope.
It's what I must do. Without it, I drown.
Within the harsh and overbearing realities that overwhelm and flood our lives, a light stands bright. In darkness, light shines the brightest.
Is this life easy? Is this life comfortable? Is life convenient? Not at all.
However, the wisest move to be made is that of trusting that this isn't what we live for.
YOLO - you only live once. A popular statement, no?
But afterwards... our destination arrives. Only security in eternity provides security in this life.
Due to the fact I haven't had chemo in three weeks (bad blood counts), I have had the opportunity to show my face in public. The most common statement I hear is, "Wow! You look way better than I imagined! I can't believe you are out!" I always respond with a kind "thank you" and resume enjoying the freedom. However, please understand. Though I present myself in an alive manner, it is because I fight for that. I fight to remain myself. At the beginning of this journey, I found that without consciously working towards a state of normality, cancer would beat me down. It would strip me of who I am and the personality that defines me. So simply, thanks for the kind remark - but if you were able to enter my body for one hour you would be overrun with a flood of physical and mental pain. This is what cancer is and does. Yet, I plan to withhold the opportunity for cancer to steal the show! ;)
I want to thank everyone for the amazing support that you have given. Letters, meals, and kind gestures of love have flooded the Hatchett home!
(Friend and neighbor Sheriff Otterbacher took me for an awesome day of radiation!)