We have passed the seventy-blog marker on our marathon. The good news is we are making progress. The bad news, there is no finish line. There is no shortage of coping issues that hold hands with chronic diseases. I imagine we never will run out of stuff to discuss.
I had thought I would lose interest after three or four. I tend to have the attention span of a five year old. After all, I did work in television for twenty-five years. Our topics are compelling and all of you very interesting. Opinionated is another word that comes to mind. The magnetic pull of the dialogue has been irresistible. I am hooked.
I am not sure my views are worth a damn. Yours are. Gawd, I hate being nice to people. So many of you have to deal with terrible if not terrifying challenges that seem so much more daunting than mine. There is no hierarchy of pain, I repeatedly argue. You are living your life and fighting your own battles. That is your reality. Still…
You do it with such grace and humor. You must be an inspiration to family and friends. And there is a palpable calm to your words. You know what you are up against and meet your challenges in an understated manner. No moaning and groaning. I generally hobble outdoors at night and rail at the trees. They are polite enough to say nothing, although they do not appear particularly impressed.
You are great people.
Your responses have been thoughtful. I think dignity is its own reward. It breeds self-respect. Do you ever get used to the whole thing? I cannot make that leap. Every day I awaken to the same body parts that do not work. They were pretty useless yesterday, and I expect the same tomorrow. Yet I am surprised when my feet hit the floor and my body begins the daily battle with itself. I am angry. You do not seem to go there.
Okay. Where do I sign up for the course?
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