Without a care, not a jot
Just a year ago when I became 43, I was a man at the height of my powers, the world before me and about to embark on the 1st of my holidays in the sun in luxury and comfort.
My job prospects were good, I was in control and enjoying the direction of the project I was on, I literally had no care in the world.
It was time to reflect on the day I was born and I got my father to recollect that day in the bleak winter of 1965 when he went with his wife to the hospital to check-out a discomfort that really was I about to be born in less than a few hours after he had been told he could return home whilst my mother was kept under observation.
A long year that turned
Today, I look back over the year and realise that it has been one long year in which there were great possibilities that would not have had the opportunity ever to write about this day and the things that have passed.
Up until May when I had my second summer holiday, I was fine, even June, my life continued without as much as a worry and then I was suddenly struck down with shingles, it completely took away my strength, I had never been so helpless and vulnerable ever, but it was not a sickness unto a death but unbeknownst to me a warning, a dire warning to which I took no particular heed.
My health was slowly deteriorating, friends were noticing stuff, my vitality was ebbing away but I more or less shrugged it off.
However, there was this little matter of the athlete’s foot on both feet that did not seem to subside with all the anti-fungal medication I threw at it.
Serious threats to my life
By the time I knew it, the situation that deteriorated to such an extent, my flesh was dying whilst I was living in what was aptly described as fungating tumours, at the end of September, I was diagnosed with cancer in my left foot and there were signs that my right foot might succumb too.
I learnt of pain like I never knew of all the pains I ever had, in fact, there was incontrovertible evidence that I was really dying and the possibility that without serious medical attention I would have lost everything including and most of all my life.
Thanks
I thank God that faith rose in me that it would not be the end of me, my doctors, nurses, neighbours, friends, family and well-wishers rallied round willing and wishing me to good health and a speedy recovery.
Today, I stand at 44, having been through a rapid recovery in my health that it is literally a miracle and ready like Job to be restored to more than I had lost in relation to all I had a year before.
I am full of gratitude and thankfulness to the Most High God, the Heavenly Father, my Lord Jesus Christ, for today, for today is a day I almost never saw but I live to tell the tale in health, in strength and great hope and expectation for the future.
Thanks to my friends and family too, thanks for being with me to celebrate this amazing day wherein I turned 44. Thank you very much as I look for 44 and more reasons to give thanks.
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