Wednesday and Thursday Homework
I re-wrote the last paragraph of the post since I’ve decided it’s going to be on my About Me page. I also changed the first sentence to:
This is my story and how it happened – and the ramifications will be enormous.
Here is a picture of what my brain looks like today. See those white clusters? Those are calcium deposits in the veins of my brain. They can’t be scoped out with a melon ball scooper. Total buzz kill.
[CT scan image of my brain – I can’t get it to show up here in the forum.]
We can all agree this is a crappy deal. No one yearns to see big chunks of stuff in their brain that don’t belong there.
I received my diagnosis two years ago and I’ve run the entire emotional spectrum. I’ve felt the thrill of learning new things I “never had time for.” I meticulously planned my own death. Then I started coping using a healthy dose of humor. I have discovered some clever coping strategies through necessity.
My job stopped defining me. I took art lessons and a cartooning course. I enrolled in a web course on how to write blogs. (How am I doing?) I resumed listening to entire operas, not just snippets, on my iPhone. I took ballroom dancing lessons and competed at “Dance-O-Ramas” (no lie, that’s what they are called).
I have no “bucket list” that I’m ticking off daily. It’s not so seamless for me. My disease is an insidious one with symptoms that lurk in abeyance for brief periods. They like to leap out and scare the stuffing out of me.
Sometimes I envision my disease as the Wicked With of the West. “And now, my beauties, something with poison in it, I think. With poison in it, but attractive to the eye, and soothing to the smell.”
If you have a disease, or someone you love (or even vaguely like) does, my hope is that you can find commonality in my words. I might have developed a strategy that works for you. Maybe I can give you the nudge to learn things you’ve had on your to do list for ten years.
Please comment liberally on the posts because I hope to learn something from you.