More on my condition. In my case, less is more. Less of me is becoming a tradition of sorts. Less of this dangblasted eyegaze shinola is what I need!
This IS ridiculous. Goodbye.
This IS ridiculous. Goodbye.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
No title is acceptable
This is Wednesday, I am Tracy. Tomorrow promises to be Thursday and I promise to still be Tracy.
Though I wither, I remain me.
Though I am speechless, I speak volumes.
I am a still cairn, messaging direction.
I raise nothing but spirit.
My opinions run rampant.
Idle time is my brother.
I occasionally delve into subjects politic, finding always reams of unadulterated vitriolic condemnation laced with hatred and degredatory insult. Veiled racism, homophobia and cultural depravity, ignorance driven by isolationism and blinded illiteracy courted by familial misguidance rules a vast cacophony of destructive stalwarts bent on political desecration.
Luckily, the only outlet for such drivel is facebook, which was never designed for intelligent debate (although sometimes intelligence does break through), or a blog, exampled by this tirade........
Though I wither, I remain me.
Though I am speechless, I speak volumes.
I am a still cairn, messaging direction.
I raise nothing but spirit.
My opinions run rampant.
Idle time is my brother.
I occasionally delve into subjects politic, finding always reams of unadulterated vitriolic condemnation laced with hatred and degredatory insult. Veiled racism, homophobia and cultural depravity, ignorance driven by isolationism and blinded illiteracy courted by familial misguidance rules a vast cacophony of destructive stalwarts bent on political desecration.
Luckily, the only outlet for such drivel is facebook, which was never designed for intelligent debate (although sometimes intelligence does break through), or a blog, exampled by this tirade........
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
Cold, hard reality
Lets face facts. My struggles to stay ahead of the debilitating progression of ALS are many. In some ways I'm faring better and these positives find themselves at the forefront of publications and discussions while the less popular and less discussed detriments are ignored.
My body is continuing to waste away. I can easily identify the two bones in each of my forearms because the muscles are entirely gone and my skin wrinkles and folds like a loose chamois draping curtain rods. My upper arms have withered and slunk below my shoulders, dive bombing to bone, leaving my complex elbow joint to lumber huge and ugly. My legs are putting up a fight, but even so they are losing mass. My thighs are thinning and narrowing as muscle melts. A sway is developing from groin to knee, more prominent on my left leg. My calves are deteriorating and weakening. Despite all of my therapies, no muscle is replacing that which has disappeared. My back and neck and gut is weakened.
I find it easier to eat lately. I am generally less depressed. My mind remains as sharp as a Tic-Tac. I am happier than a year ago. You figure it out. I'm just in this for the fun.
My body is continuing to waste away. I can easily identify the two bones in each of my forearms because the muscles are entirely gone and my skin wrinkles and folds like a loose chamois draping curtain rods. My upper arms have withered and slunk below my shoulders, dive bombing to bone, leaving my complex elbow joint to lumber huge and ugly. My legs are putting up a fight, but even so they are losing mass. My thighs are thinning and narrowing as muscle melts. A sway is developing from groin to knee, more prominent on my left leg. My calves are deteriorating and weakening. Despite all of my therapies, no muscle is replacing that which has disappeared. My back and neck and gut is weakened.
I find it easier to eat lately. I am generally less depressed. My mind remains as sharp as a Tic-Tac. I am happier than a year ago. You figure it out. I'm just in this for the fun.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Prolific..... Too?
Today is Friday and I am relatively content to sit in front of my Tobii and create turmoil on Facebook, albeit in a more pedestrian, less narcissistic way, hoping to pave the dirty path for intelligent conversation rather than perpetualizing colonic bickering.
I can only speak for myself. Who am I trying to fool? I can only speak TO myself, often clueless as to what I'm saying, certain to misinterpret what I'm saying due to the fact that I'm a poor listener under any circumstances.
If I had only listened to my wife all these years, I mightn't've (hey, a double contraction! Is that legal? If not, I just invented it!) found myself in the present predicament.
A note: to date, I have nearly 90,000 hits on my blog. When I reach 100,000, I plan to print every post I have written on this site since July of 2011, over 400 posts and over a hundred thousand words. It will be interesting to see how my outlook has changed having gone from concept and prediction to development and fruition along the ALS Super Highway. Stay tuned.
I can only speak for myself. Who am I trying to fool? I can only speak TO myself, often clueless as to what I'm saying, certain to misinterpret what I'm saying due to the fact that I'm a poor listener under any circumstances.
If I had only listened to my wife all these years, I mightn't've (hey, a double contraction! Is that legal? If not, I just invented it!) found myself in the present predicament.
A note: to date, I have nearly 90,000 hits on my blog. When I reach 100,000, I plan to print every post I have written on this site since July of 2011, over 400 posts and over a hundred thousand words. It will be interesting to see how my outlook has changed having gone from concept and prediction to development and fruition along the ALS Super Highway. Stay tuned.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
All aboard!
What is ALS. Do you remember? Did you ever know? Does anybody know? Why is there no cure? If ALS is incurable, then why is anybody trying to find one? The word 'incurable' can be compared to 'unattainable' and in the comparison lies the core strength of negativity, futility, even hopelessness. Impacting this barrage of defeatist structure upon the already maligned and miserable sufferer guarantees a greater struggle against what have now been defined as insurmountable odds.
ALS. Simply put, an error message put forth by the brain allows an overproduction of glutimate to short circuit and eventually drown upper motor neuron cells responsible for carrying information to voluntary muscle cells throughout the body, at first bombarding then with too much information and eventually killing them when the motor neuron dies and all information ceases.
ALS within me seems to ebb and flow. There was a time when my freight train to disaster was chugging hard and moving fast. My decline was frightful and depressing. Today I see a struggle for the locomotive as it crawls upward, slowly, possibly losing traction and slipping backwards on occasion, losing grip...... On the track, on me......
Metaphor always trumps simile. ALS is a train ride. Sometimes too fast, in some instances too slow, always too real. My ebb and flow is not really to and fro, more up and down, a rollercoaster of symptoms, emotions, pains and gains, a seemingly endless test of endurance and resolve.
ALS takes away my speech, my movement, my breath. Doctors and diagnoses take away hope. But not from me...... I keep dragging my feet as that train struggles up the grade, my heels dug deep. The caboose is my friend as I pull this sonofabitch off the tracks. Let's see it take me now!
ALS. Simply put, an error message put forth by the brain allows an overproduction of glutimate to short circuit and eventually drown upper motor neuron cells responsible for carrying information to voluntary muscle cells throughout the body, at first bombarding then with too much information and eventually killing them when the motor neuron dies and all information ceases.
ALS within me seems to ebb and flow. There was a time when my freight train to disaster was chugging hard and moving fast. My decline was frightful and depressing. Today I see a struggle for the locomotive as it crawls upward, slowly, possibly losing traction and slipping backwards on occasion, losing grip...... On the track, on me......
Metaphor always trumps simile. ALS is a train ride. Sometimes too fast, in some instances too slow, always too real. My ebb and flow is not really to and fro, more up and down, a rollercoaster of symptoms, emotions, pains and gains, a seemingly endless test of endurance and resolve.
ALS takes away my speech, my movement, my breath. Doctors and diagnoses take away hope. But not from me...... I keep dragging my feet as that train struggles up the grade, my heels dug deep. The caboose is my friend as I pull this sonofabitch off the tracks. Let's see it take me now!
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