I’m having a hard time lately coughing up the rest of my tales about my diagnosis. Writing about it in retrospect like that is, well, depending on my mood, rather depressing. From moment to moment, my outlook flails about like a fish out of water. Here’s a sample:
It’s a normal day. I’m driving in the car to the grocery store. A green leaf floats down over the road in front of me. Back and forth, hanging in the hot summer breeze, postponing the inevitable impact with the asphalt, holding on to the memory of the tiny twig that gave it life. I blow past it and seek it out in the rear-view mirror. I never see the landing. My eyes well up with tears because I identify with the leaf. Yes, that’s right, sometimes I’m so steeped with self-pity that I cry for dying plants.
My prevailing attitude is often reflected in my photography. This tree is in our back yard. I wish every intruder could be annihilated as easily as the vines on this oak.
This past Wednesday was a good day. I found a fantastic neurologist. This person renewed my hope and oozed compassion. I cannot remember ever leaving a doctor of any sort feeling jolly. That’s quite a feat considering the subject matter. Anyway, I’ll explain that later when I get back to writing about my diagnosis.
Good times make me like girly things like flowers and butterflies.
Okay, the nitty-gritty on my pause in writing about my diagnosis… Yes, it’s kind of depressing. Yes, it needs to be left in the past in the proverbial rear-view mirror. Yes, MS stinks. The main reason though is completely unrelated to me. Well, not completely.
I see the news. I see the reports of murders and tragic accidents. I see the pictures of the Somali refugees. I sit at stoplights watching homeless men collect change from cars. I saw with my own eyes the spray-painted messages for help and abandoned homes in New Orleans not long after Katrina. There is suffering everywhere you look, if you want to see it. Unimaginable suffering.
I know the universe extends farther than my personal horizon. I don’t want you to think poorly of me. I have a beautiful life. I have always been fortunate enough to have all the necessities and much, much more. My true intention for this blog lies far deeper than myself. Thank you for your comments, messages, and support. I didn’t expect it, and it’s totally knocked me sideways.