Staying Alive
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One moment I was ageing gracefully – a healthy, happy, passionate woman with a purpose.
Then, for some unknown reason I wrote my family that my seventy-fifth birthday was approaching and I thought my body might like to be acknowledged for holding up so well.
Six months later I was a one-eyed, nearly deaf cripple with a new hip and a broken back who feared she would never walk again – at least not without help and pain.
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