This will be brief.
From the beginning of my journey, my first priority was to appear healthy, unaffected and strong. As time has passed, the only battle more difficult has been that against the disease. A couple months from now I will be celebrating the first anniversary of my diagnosis. It is almost impossible to believe that a year ago this week I was slinging roof sheathing and installing rafters. I distinctly remember having dropped a few sheets and noticing my grip was lousy, blaming it on the gloves I wore. I never in a million years would have guessed........................
I cannot dress myself, I descend the stairs backward, I need a walker to make it to the bathroom and I am elated when I find the toilet seat up. I'm so wobbly that when visitors come by they jump to steady me or worry my movement as if I were a toddler. I know they feel bad. I feel bad for them. To witness me now after knowing me for so many years is surely shocking. My decline is steady and obvious.
I need people not to fret. I need people to look at me and understand that we all descend as we get older. I just want to be the best at it. I've always tried to overachieve. I've always wanted to be best, first. I've always wanted to win everything. Maybe in some strange way I'm busting my ass to achieve a goal. I couldn't wait to grow old with the rest of mankind so I found a way to lead the pack.
I don't really believe that. I don't really revel in any of my situation. Actually, I hate it all. I wouldn''t wish my condition on anyone (except maybe Charles Manson). I hate being needy. I thought having beautiful wives and children popping grapes into my mouth while I reclined in my garden would be heaven, but I now know it to be a myth. I would rather be healthy. That said, I welcome peoples' concern, their help and their support. I expect no less then an e-mail howdy do on March 15.
From the beginning of my journey, my first priority was to appear healthy, unaffected and strong. As time has passed, the only battle more difficult has been that against the disease. A couple months from now I will be celebrating the first anniversary of my diagnosis. It is almost impossible to believe that a year ago this week I was slinging roof sheathing and installing rafters. I distinctly remember having dropped a few sheets and noticing my grip was lousy, blaming it on the gloves I wore. I never in a million years would have guessed........................
I cannot dress myself, I descend the stairs backward, I need a walker to make it to the bathroom and I am elated when I find the toilet seat up. I'm so wobbly that when visitors come by they jump to steady me or worry my movement as if I were a toddler. I know they feel bad. I feel bad for them. To witness me now after knowing me for so many years is surely shocking. My decline is steady and obvious.
I need people not to fret. I need people to look at me and understand that we all descend as we get older. I just want to be the best at it. I've always tried to overachieve. I've always wanted to be best, first. I've always wanted to win everything. Maybe in some strange way I'm busting my ass to achieve a goal. I couldn't wait to grow old with the rest of mankind so I found a way to lead the pack.
I don't really believe that. I don't really revel in any of my situation. Actually, I hate it all. I wouldn''t wish my condition on anyone (except maybe Charles Manson). I hate being needy. I thought having beautiful wives and children popping grapes into my mouth while I reclined in my garden would be heaven, but I now know it to be a myth. I would rather be healthy. That said, I welcome peoples' concern, their help and their support. I expect no less then an e-mail howdy do on March 15.
it does suck to find things not 'working' anymore. I think how angry I get when something minor starts to ache and remember getting old really makes you look at things differently.I will see you soon!
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