I am not alone

I've been writing this blog for over seven months now and just realized that while I'm certainly aware that I am not the only guy afflicted with ALS, I write as if it were so. I act as if I know something about battling the disease, but when I look back on my posts I see that while my tack changes with every breeze, I haven't a clue whether anything I've done has provided a modicum of good. I rarely consider others' battles as I devise so many tactical variances of my own. I know I'm on the first leg of my ALS  journey. I was diagnosed less than a year ago, and while my symptoms seem to be collecting within me at a rapid pace, I am still in better shape than those who have been living with the disease for years. I'm sure that many ALSers and their relatives find some of my posts at least abrasive and at most horrifying. I have a habit of letting sarcasm and humor carry the day in many writings without consideration for those living  horror far greater than mine. I am sorry if I offend or distress. My  habits are addictions- I can slather on the deodorant every morning but at the end of the day I still stink.

I have no idea how many readers out there have ALS or know someone who does. I am by no means educated enough or experienced enough to be considered as a barometer to be used to determine any plan of action against the disease. Some people live the dream, some are living in a dream, some people are living a nightmare and some create their own hell. I'm just trying to turn my nightmare the hell around so I can dream of living in a dream, waking after an astounding eight hours of  sleep to find out it was all a dream, a nightmare of epic proportions, but a nightmare nonetheless.

I am willing and able to post melodramatic, usually do and enjoy it. I like to take a sliver of stale, moldy cake, load it with a pound of frosting and serve it up on a platter. My posts are just that. ALS is a shit sandwich that I make every effort to present as edible. Tasty, even yummy. By the time your taste buds discover the nasty presence, they have been dulled by the disguise slathered upon them. As the malignancy within festers I find new ways to create a palatable concoction that cloaks the rotten depths of the subject. My war is with words, living, that  combat the subterranean disease that is ALS. Besides, if I just bitched, complained and cried, you'd have tuned out months ago.