How would it feel to be told that you are going to die?

That you will not be able to leave the ICU.

That you will not be able to leave the hospital.

That you will never be able to return home.

You receive a call saying that you will die from your illness within three months.

You believe them and prepare for death. You organise your own funeral and your burial plot.

You finally accept your situation, that you are dying.

Then it doesn’t happen.

Again and again and again.

What do you do now?

You’ve beaten the odds over and over. By many weeks, months, and years.

You don’t know what to believe any more. You don’t know who to believe any more.

It could all be taken away at any time. Do you dare to dream? Do you dare to hope?

Somehow through all the disasters you carry on, something keeps you going. Some inner strength. Some kind of fire keeps on burning inside. Some light that refuses to dim. A strong spirit coupled with too much to live for. A fervent wish to meet the next generation. To be part of their life. To grab onto whatever precious bonus periods that life may have to offer.

I am not defeated.

I am courage.

I am will.

I will persist.

I am alive.