Breaking Free
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Oh how she loved good food! I dreamed of some day visiting her in the province and spending time with her, just following her around the kitchen, asking silly questions while watching her concoct some exotic palate teasers. I dreamed of treating her to a special restaurant that serves her favorite but forbidden food - roast pork. I remember how she used to send someone to buy her half a pound of her favorite food and eating it in secret with me, while everyone - especially my Dad - was taking an afternoon siesta. The next day would be disastrous - she would be rushed to the hospital owing to another stroke attack and as my Dad shakes his head at the sight of another set of medical bills, she would wink at me.I remained a loyal guardians of that secret until the day of her demise.
Miraculously, she always managed to survive the mild strokes. Yet, when a mosquito bite became infected and refused to heal, my grandmother's high and adventurous spirit began to lose the battle. What started as a harmless insect bite progressed into a gangrene and all I gathered were bits of info as my parents speak about her condition in a hush hush manner.
Her doctor recommended amputation, and her children convinced her to have it done, but my grandma refused. She would leave the world intact, and months of pondering on her situation prepared her to face "what's next".
She died at the young age of 62, a vibrant woman who taught me to go beyond the norm and get the best out of life. Because of her, I learned to break a few rules and get away with it with a wink and a grin.
This blog is a tribute to her.
With these fingers that she used to hold, with this mind that she used to influence, I aim to reach out to those who are suffering of the same fate and need support and help them break free from their bondage.
It's about time to put a brake to diabetes. And that time is now.