A Message from Brenda

This is a message that Brenda posted yesterday on her blog.

I started this "technical error" journey with myspace after learning about something called AML in a small room with Miah, Karri, Jim and Dr. Salganick in Concord, CA. My boys were then just 6 and 8.

After feeling short of breath and tired, as I do today, I remain seated just as I was in a hosptal bed then being summoned and knocked down by a deadly disease that would change my life in so many ways. Not only would it instantly humble me and make me feel invincible, it would subtract years from my life, scare friends away, add new compassionate ones into my life and inspire and motivate new people like no other.

I always knew in my life that I was here for a reason. My reason was always to help others. I told Dad that whenever I saw one of those"Help Wanted" signs in the window, I was the one that could fit the bill. I especially loved the Air Emissions Quality team sign and the Brown's Chicken's sign.

I could help, no matter what the job was. Anyhow, I ended up being a "helper".

I generally just helped. No matter who, where, what. I smiled and laughed and pretended I knew what I was doing. It didn't matter. As long as I felt I was included and on the center of a stage. Even if it was singing "BABY GOT BACK" in front of a large group!

Through these years I have absolutely NO regrets. I worked hard and played even harder. I never said a swear word, always went to school on time, and won the PE award in high school.

In fact, 3 days ago I just crawled up the stairs.

And now, I'm back in bed still hooked up, still using a commode, and wearing a purple t-shirt that says (in orange writing) "freakisly strong" while covered with a wonderful TNT blanket that was knitted for me just weeks ago.

Now I peacefully await and end the battle that has attacked my 36-year-old body surrounded by my most beautiful family and friends. Surreal, but true, this is really happening.

We all wait. Me, my family and friends that are here now, and all of you. Even though you're not here with me physically (it would simply be impossible for all of you to fit in this room), I want you to know I feel you and know you're here. I love all of you.

Thank you for loving and supporting me. Please continue to pour it out on my three boys.

Without that making much sense now, it does to me.