New Zealand bound!

Yes, finally, just in time, on a roll, can't wait! Nineteen hours in coach seems a small price to pay for a trip not only "down under", but a little to the East. Kiwis and beetroot burgers, waterfalls and hostels (is it coincidence that "hostel" and hostile resemble one another?). Who cares, say I. Let it be known that even my depleted state finds me up to any sightseeing task I choose to perform. I am, as I've said before, a Weeble; however if I were to tumble, I plan to avoid any myriad of abyssi (multiple abysses) found in the vicinity. The Hobbit is being filmed on the south island, and I plan to walk on, rather hobbled, collect a fat paycheck and squander it all on a long shot wager on a second rate rugby team competing in the Worlds. That, or I stand behind a fence with the rest of the commoners and hope for a glimpse of a famous person. Probably the latter.
These days, good comes sprinkled with bad; sometimes bad is the cake and the frosting is good. On occasion, I get no frosting whatsoever. Everything is a mixed bag. I feel good about many things, then I settle in on an awareness not to be ignored. I have faith in my efforts and I play the optimist as well as I can while skewering any thoughts of the future,- that of my family, my friends- flinging them away. It does no good to anticipate anything that contains negative energy. It does no good to play "Pollyanna" either. Each day- more accurately, each morning- I begin with self assessment, determined to find improvement, satisfied with stasis. Mostly, I find tiny new changes. Some cannot be related to the progress of ALS, but as a result of my symptoms. My arm is travelling toward uselessness through deterioration, causing discomfort for the first time. My muscular decomposition puts a strain on ligaments, joints. I feel pain in my fingers, my shoulder. If I position my arm correctly, I can initiate muscle pulls that must be manually manipulated to be relieved.
My legs are beginning to give way. I've retained most of my leg strength so far, but my motor neuron decay has affected muscle signal to the point where too much information is being passed, and as a result I respond in a sluggish manner, so I walk wrong. Add to this the ever looming muscle degeneration, insidiously manifesting itself here and there, and it becomes easier to look forward with trepidation. I will, to be sure, walk until I fall, then crawl a distance before I hoist myself into a wheeled vehicle. I only wish I could be sure this end game of my mobility can be staved off until I finish the legions of activities I have, and will plan that require self propelled mobility. When (if) it comes to my entering a rolling device, rest assured I will be "hell on wheels". Once I get past the humiliation, I will jump high onto the bandwagon of entitlement. Give me my Medicare, Give me my Social Security Disability Income, give me my handicap placard, give me my early boarding privilege, my stomach tube, my catheter, my respirator, my splints, my pain meds, my antidepressants, the prayer, the mind/body work, the acupuncture, massage, supplements, ibuprofen, baby chewable aspirin, the automatic doors, the motorized carts at Schnucks, the percocet, vicadin, the ramps, stair lifts. I am entitled. I will take it all. I would also trade the entire package to not have ALS, an option with rapidly diminishing odds. So................ wait for me to hobble up and soak up my multifaceted, multi emotional musings, though not Amusing, as I experience the rush of a lifetime.
In closing, at present, I am eating my cake, the icing, I lick the plate clean and savor a great Kiwi coffee as I roll to the south and fill a bucket with a dream vacation with Rachel. Story to come, pics galore. See ya.