Today, as you probably know, is Friday the Thirteenth. To many people it's simply a day of superstition and thinking bad things will happen. To me, these days are a darker reminder. This one in particular is one of the worst, second only to June 13th. The reminder that on one of these days my life was turned upside down and has been in a downward spiral ever since. It was the day I got sick. The day I got so sick that to this day my doctors do not have a clue as to what this syndrome or array of symptoms is. The start of the year in which my body would begin to betray me for seemingly no reason, of going through option after option until we'd almost run out. It is sad to think about, but ironic in a way. People always say that bad things will happen on a Friday the Thirteenth. For me, something did.
Today is the four year and one month anniversary of the day I got sick. 6/13/2014-7/13/2018.
...It is a sad but ironic day.
Until next time,
Max
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