In exactly 22 days I turn 26. For most people, this isn’t a big birthday. But for me, every birthday is big. Every day, every week, every month, every year I manage to claw from my condition is a victory worth celebrating 🥳 Obviously I wasn’t expecting to celebrate this momentous occasion during a global pandemic whilst in isolation, but I’m sure we’ll find a way to enjoy the day. I honestly never, ever thought I’d live this long. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve nearly died. But I’ve survived. I’m still here! I loved bitches! When I started at Ty Hafan we were told part of the criteria was that I wasn’t expected to live to see 19. At the time we didn’t think I’d see 14 tbh. And Hope House criteria is for those not expected to live to 25. Most palliative YA criteria and services only go up to 25, because survival past that age has always been so rare. Seeing myself bypass that milestone, along with so many fellow palliative care warriors, make me very, very happy. When I was asked to imagine a future, even at 18 and 20, 25 seemed hazy and distant, an impossibility. Anything after 25 was just... blank. I had vague hopes and dreams, but I was never able to make them solid. I think I was too scared to imagine something it was so unlikely I’d get to experience. And now I’m turning 26, and I’m living a truly incredible life. I’m enjoying my life, despite all the shite I go through. I’m lucky, lucky, lucky, to have a life so full of love, laughter, joy, and truly wonderful people. The next goal is turning 30. It’s the longest goal I’ve set myself; normally I stick to a year or two at most. But I’m daring to dream. After all, I’ve made it this far! Anyway, I guess I want to thank you all for filling these last 25 years and 343 days with good things 💛 #palliativecarewarrior #stillkickin (at Felindre Reservoir) https://www.instagram.com/p/CGbGR3djRWN/?igshid=1kri1uho9x2d8