You Changed My Life, Spirit

That cold, drizzly February day I stood in the mud at a Vermont farm, trying to find the right horse for a client. At least, that's what I was supposed to be doing. Instead, I was wondering how long I had to live.

Six to 12 months, the doctor said, because my cancer wasn't responding to treatment. I was only 25. I wasn't ready for my time to be measured in months.

It was hard to believe that just one year earlier, things seemed like they'd finally come together. Greg and I had married and had kids young, maybe too young. But we had worked through our growing pains. I'd turned my love of horses into a career as a professional trainer. Life was good.

Then I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma and non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. Both forms of cancer are very difficult to cure, and multiple myeloma is almost always fatal.

Neither Greg nor I knew how to handle my illness. It put a huge strain on my marriage. We separated. Our breakup only confirmed what I'd learned early on—that I couldn't count on anyone.

Not even the people who were supposed to love me. My father was abusive and died when I was seven, and my mother struggled to take care of my sister and me, so we ended up being shuttled to our grandmother.

The one constant in my life was horses. I'd been introduced to them on my grandmother's ranch, and the quiet peace of riding kept me going.

Only now I was tapped out. I'd seen some of my friends get through problems by trusting in their faith. But what did I have to look forward to? More chemo, more doctors' visits, more responsibilities as a single mom. Justin was only seven, Kailianne not even a year old. With my prognosis, how could I hope to see them grow up? How could I even let them get close to me?