Between Heartbeats & Hospital Beeps
Today I devoured a slice of pizza from a hospital tray  , forcing a smile while machines screamed their endless rhythm around me.
At 16 I dreamed of late-night laughs, first loves, and endless summers.

Instead, life handed me IV drips, cold scan rooms, and calendars bleeding with “next appointment” ink.
Some mornings hope feels paper-thin.
Other nights despair sits on my chest like wet concrete.
Yet I still celebrate the sacred tiny victories:
A blood test that didn’t betray me
A night I slept without nightmares
A real, belly-deep laugh that slipped out uninvited
I’m not asking for miracles or magic answers.

Just this—
If my story crossed your screen tonight…
Close your eyes for one second.
Send me a quiet prayer, a flicker of warmth, a stubborn spark of hope.
That’s enough.
That’s everything.