This story may be short but this is my story and I wish to share it with you. For those who feel like giving up or drowning in depression or are feeling that there is no hope for you...

It all started the day I went to work at a local gas station. I was 26 years old, in a relationship and had two lovely children. Work was an uneventful day at work, however, a football match was being aired with Jamaica facing off against another team. I was focusing on my duty and, every time I squeezed the handle of the gas pump, my fingers grew tighter, as if they were tied by strings that cut the blood circulation from my fingers. I cringed as I felt pain in my hands, it wasn't unbearable but enough to keep me from doing my work.

Feeling concerned for my well-being, my supervisor advised that I should take the day off to check on my fingers. I followed his advice, went to the clinic and waited in the lobby for my name to be called. Once my name was called, I followed the direction that I was instructed to go and walked into the room where I was alone with the Doctor, I gave my greeting, she greeted me back. She asked me what the issue was and feeling dismayed I explained my situation.

Doctor pondered, did a blood test and came to the conclusion that I had arthritis in my hands. I felt sad, a sense of fear grasped my heart and yet I hoped because if anyone could the doctors will help me. The doctors in the clinic recommended me and signed me up for the treatment and did as they instructed me.

I started the treatment multiple times, two to three times, I remember. However, despite my treatment, I can feel that I wasn't making any progress or my fingers were getting any better. I was still in pain, unable to move them and unable to help myself. I went back the fourth time and in a state of despondent, I told them I feel the finger getting tighter. I didn't know what was happening, I faulted the medication as the more I took it, the worse it got.

As a concerned and worried patient, I instructed the Nurse to do another examination on my fingers. "Are you the doctor or am I the doctor?"was her response. I was at a loss for words, for the first time I've been exposed to such a behaviour, especially from someone who should have given me top priority. She grumpily left, gave me a prescription and Instructed me to get medication before she rudely sent me away.

In a state of disbelief and suffering from pain, I left without arguing. I had to ask for help so that I could buy my pills. Nearby even the pharmacist was puzzled at my unnatural movement, the pained expression on my face but she didn't say a word. When I managed to give her the prescription, she walked away and returned minutes later with my pills. I drove back home in a taxi, my spouse was there, expecting my return. I told him what happened to me, he offered his words to me in return, reassuring me that the pills will help in alleviating my pain.

I went to take a bath, went to bed and during my slumber, I was abruptly woken up by the unbearable pain in my fingers, more intense that never before. My fingers turned physically black, paralyzed and I was unable to move them. I was in a deep state on panic, distraught and I cried, suppressing the urge to scream in pain.

My spouse panicked as well, and he did the only thing that he knew that would help me. He warmed salted water to help ease the pain but his remedy was ineffective. I was still feeling excruciating pain in my hands, my fingers were still black as charcoal and numb to movement. I cried my eyes out, suppressing the urge to scream as my fingers throbbed in pain.

My spouse rushed me to the hospital as fast as he could, he too was as worried as I am. Once we arrived, he brought me into the hospital and called the nurse to aid me quickly. The nurses placed me in an unoccupied room where they gave me medical treatment and performed countless examinations. They strung me to an IV pole, gave me anaesthesia to help me alleviate the pain and I watched them scuffled around as I cried.

Shortly after, the pain subsided, the feeling in my fingers were gone. I couldn't move them, I couldn't sense that they were there even though they were. I had no words to say, I couldn't cry because I was too worried about my family, how will I help them? How will I help myself?

The room was silent, the only sound was the bleeping of the support machines beside my bed. I glanced at the IV pole. The door opened and the doctor entered. Feeling groggy, I watched him as he walked up to my bed and checked on my conditions. I watched him use the syringe then inject a liquid inside the Iv cannula. I didn't remember what happened or what he said but all I remember is that the doctor wrote me a prescription and the doctor sent me home saying "Don't worry, they will fall off eventually."

I will never forget those words, it sounded like a part of me was about to disappear. Bewilderment, pain, stunned, angry, afraid and pity were the emotions that I was experiencing. What did he mean by they will fall off? Was he talking about my fingers? I thought he would help me, I thought they would be better but my hopes were dashed.

In the past my family and friends say it was Voodoo was cast on me, a suspicious notion, one that I didn't believe in. They said I was possessed by an evil spirit but I know my body and I placed all my blame on the pills prescribed for me.

Not long after, I lost my job, my spouse left because he couldn't handle my conditions. We were together since I was 16, we had two kids together and we've been together for ten year. The only person I thought had stayed by my side had vanished without even saying goodbye. I was emotionally destroyed, but still I carried on.

I returned to the country and soon, my finger started falling off starting with the index finger. It happened just as the doctor had predicted, no... it happened just as he planned. I couldn't be mad at him because there was no hope for me. I felt nothing but pain and sorrow on top of the ill-treatment given by my relatives, especially the ones who are only around for my money.

Even in my condition, they still relied on me for financial support, what was I supposed to do? I need all the help I can get, even if I have to suffer the ill-treatment. Days went by, months went by, just when I thought things would get better, my conditions took a turn for the worst. Along with my fingers, my toes became the same as my fingers were.

At that time I felt that I was being punished, so I wondered "What did I do to deserve this? Why me? Why me?"as I cried under the pain. My aunt who is currently helping me by feeding me, bathing me and being sure that I was well taken care of. As my conditions grew dire, she had enough and decided to bring me to the hospital.

When I arrived, the hospital differ from the one that gave me despair instead of hope. The doctors were stunned to see my current conditions stating "In all their medical days they have never seen anything like this". They did everything in their power and within their medical knowledge to help me but it was futile. My condition was beyond their expertise and my failure was inevitable.

They brought me to the first hospital, where they performed a test that returned saying they still couldn't find anything. My mother took me to numerous hospitals, they did numerous blood tests, and resulted in my body being poisoned by a medical overdose.

I was beyond any help but still I didn't give up on myself, I wasn't about to let my hands or my toes determine my fate, so I still pushed. The doctors gave up on treating or attempting to operate. I complained to myself because I had a hunch that the medication was responsible. I had no physical proof but the worsening of my condition worsened because of medication.

They transported me back to another hospital where my treatment was given priority. My body was naturally cold and insensitive to taste. Despite eating the food they provided, nothing, no sweetness, no sourness, no bitterness and no saltiness, I couldn't taste anything. However, that wasn't enough to stop me from living. The doctors performed surgery but they had second thoughts due to my lack of heat.

They used anaesthesia before I went unconscious, everything went dark, it was like I was sleeping and I thought I would never wake up. Miraculously I did, I found that they removed the areas of the finger and toes while trying to save most of it. I praised God as my condition got better and better because once you don't give up, God won't give up on you. I've seen many famous individuals who haven't given up, so I followed them and still didn't give up. I still had my children and I didn't want to leave them behind.

1 month later.

My fingers and toes were healed, thank god. They were still black, uneven and I only had the proximal phalange which are the bones in my fingers above the palm of my hands. They were all weird to look at but still I was thankful that my pain was now gone. I immediately started going to therapy and I eventually started stretching my fingers. However, I couldn't walk because my feet weren't working properly, walking was physically impossible as I had no toes to keep me balanced.

I had to be carried around by the doctors and nurses which was a trouble but still I pushed on. After being discharged from the hospital, I went to my father's home where I continued my recovery. I bought the healing ointment and my father kept assisting me by lathering my toes and fingers. I felt undeserving, I felt uneasiness as I was being taken care of in such a manner.

Whenever I had to use the bathroom, I suppressed it because I didn't want to be a bother to anyone. Whenever they would ask me, I would always smile and reassure them that I was alright. However, my efforts to appear strong were dashed as the next day I gave in and asked my grandfather to help me. I was so embarrassed, I couldn't look him in the eyes. When he was finished, he cleaned me and brought me back to my room.

Later that night, I turned to the heavens and cried to God. I asked him to help me, I don't want to be a burden on my family, help me stand on my feet... help me just this once. My grandfather would always encourage me with his melodious words, he would often say "Don't worry you haven't lost. You can still get back your life, your future husband is still out there."

I always laughed despite the situations and looked at the bright side of life as his words inspired me to move on with my life. I couldn't give up and I couldn't keep being a burden to my family, I had children that were waiting for me to come home to them. One day, I decided to challenge myself by climbing down the stairs.

My arms were aching as I dragged myself back up the stairs, my arms were aching, I sweat profusely and despite all the pain, I begged god to help me as I faced this challenge. Eventually I was able to stand on my feet, I didn't celebrate because there was still more challenges ahead. I couldn't go forwards and eventually walked backwards for a week, looking over my shoulder at every turn.

I continued to massage my feet every morning and night, before and after my training. I pushed through, fighting the pain and with god on my side and with my children on my mind, I never gave up. The day finally came where I walked down the stairs forwards, I was standing on my two feet, going to the bathroom and taking care of myself. It felt as if I had been reborn, I cried tears of joy as I looked down and smiled at what I had accomplished.

I went back to the city, to live and to restart my life, back to the happy days. I was so excited to see my children again, I was thinking about hugging them, telling them how much I loved them and how things will be better. However, life doesn't always go as we thought it would. When I returned, my children wasn't being taken care of as I original thought, my daughter was sick and suffering from depression while my son had Tinea capitis (also called ringworm of the scalp)

I had to obtain $250 usd to buy medication to treat my son's condition and I had to get treatment for my daughter as she was ill. She was also suffering from depression and it was all thanks to me. She said to me one day "Mommy, every time I go to school and i would loose my notebook". In her eyes, I could how depressed she was but her caretaker would complain. "Nothing is wrong with you, you are only worrying about your mother". I shed tears to see how much children were suffering while I was gone.

Only her teacher gave her comfort, she tried with my daughter and consoled her that I was okay, and that she shouldn't worry. However my family said that she was failing in school. They would often argue with my daughter and tell me "Don't let her finish school". To think my relatives, the ones whom I entrusted my children with would be this way. No wonder my daughter was failing in school... no wonder my son was in this bad condition.

This is how life is, there are times we struggle, there are times we thrive, there are times we will fall and there are times we will rise. This is what it means to be a human, this is what we call, Life. Despite doctors telling me I won't survive, I remember how depressed I felt when a doctor said "Prepare her death certificate".

People gathered around my bed and the doctor wondered if I had passed but they didn't know that these people were gathered to give me support, to pray for me, help me and wish to see the light guide me from this darkness.

I knew that god was there, I could feel the holy spirit and touched hope even without my fingers. I walked down the path of righteousness even without my toes, I am free from all my burdens. Now, my children are living a wonderful life, exploring and working to make their dreams a reality. I still do my best to help myself with the help of my families and I lend my fingerless hands to those who are in need.

The moral of this story is to never give up on life and never give up on yourself. Even if you are going through a problem, whether physically, mentally or spiritually, always remember that you are able to keep on living, you are able to keep going on, find something that will motivate you to push yourself.

It's never too late and it's never over, it's always the beginning to do something, to start over, to build yourself. If you don't have fingers use your palms, if you don't have hands, use your feet, if you don't have feet, use your voice.

Believe in my story and...Believe in yourself.