“When you come to the end of everything you know
 and are faced with the darkness of the unknown
 Faith is knowing that one of two things will happen,
 Either there will be something solid for you to stand on,
 Or you will be taught how to fly.”
                                                        Barbara J. Winter
 
 
 

A beautiful spring day dawned, full of hope and promise of the warm weather to come to New England.  I didn’t know that this April day would be the first day of my journey into Hell that would last almost two years.

I remember banging my shin while dusting the treadmill.  I looked at my left leg and saw the tiniest of cuts, almost like a paper cut.  I washed it off with a paper towel and continued on with my cleaning, giving it no more thought.

Later that day, I noticed a rash on my lower left leg where the tiny cut was.  It was very itchy and I scratched it.  Again, thinking nothing of it.  The next day when I woke, there were little draining ulcerated wounds there!  What was happening?  Why were there open wounds?  What was causing all this pain?  I was both mystified and frightened at what was going on within my body.

As is my usual response to things of the medical nature, I went about my day ignoring the pain and what was happening to my legs.  I never claimed to be intelligent when it came to my own body. Instead of being sensible and calling the doctor, I was sure I could cure these on my own.  I plastered cortisone cream on my leg and took non-prescription pain relievers.

Another day passed and my right leg had one or two ulcerated wounds.  Again I was sure I could cure them.  It became a routine for me to use the cream and take the pain relievers for the next few days.
 

  (c)2002, Designs by Fallen Angel, Boston, Massachusetts, USA