J.P. we had an instant connection, although our meeting was a virtual one, we bonded over our common threads of pain and suffering, made stronger after our exchange of photos to discover our physical similarities. In the beginning you called us IC Sisters and we laughed at ourselves and our pain, trying to find the magic cure that would restore our health. We planned a big celebration of our return to health which would include meeting in person, a celebratory dinner and perhaps a joint couples retreat.
But as the months turned into years the scales would tip unevenly: my health was restored while yours would cruelly worsen. Countless horrific treatments, surgeries, exorbitant medical costs incurred, yet, you did not complain. You took each pain, each treatment, each glimmer of hope in stride. You told me, uncannily, that you felt that out of the two of us that I would get better but deep down you doubted that you would be able to overcome your very sick body. Shortly after this statement: a diagnosis of Lyme disease and all of the new terrors and new pain ensued. And then the ultimate diagnosis of terminal cancer. How much can one woman endure? Yet through the excruciating pain you never wavered from your fight to live one more day.
When I heard the news of your passing I cried for so many reasons. Although the tears flow because I know there will be no more phone calls or emails exchanged between us and we can never have our celebratory meeting, I am happy that you are free from your pain riddled body. Soar with the birds, my IC Sister. I am honored to have been able to call you friend for these past five years. You will never be forgotten.
But as the months turned into years the scales would tip unevenly: my health was restored while yours would cruelly worsen. Countless horrific treatments, surgeries, exorbitant medical costs incurred, yet, you did not complain. You took each pain, each treatment, each glimmer of hope in stride. You told me, uncannily, that you felt that out of the two of us that I would get better but deep down you doubted that you would be able to overcome your very sick body. Shortly after this statement: a diagnosis of Lyme disease and all of the new terrors and new pain ensued. And then the ultimate diagnosis of terminal cancer. How much can one woman endure? Yet through the excruciating pain you never wavered from your fight to live one more day.
When I heard the news of your passing I cried for so many reasons. Although the tears flow because I know there will be no more phone calls or emails exchanged between us and we can never have our celebratory meeting, I am happy that you are free from your pain riddled body. Soar with the birds, my IC Sister. I am honored to have been able to call you friend for these past five years. You will never be forgotten.
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