ottawa girl
Moderator emeritus
- Joined
- Jun 14, 2012
- Messages
- 1,569
- Reason
- PALS
- Diagnosis
- 04/2012
- Country
- CA
- State
- Ontario
- City
- Ottawa
So, tomorrow marks one year. Diagnosed, April 5th, 2012 @ 3:30pm.
My world, and my life changed that sunny afternoon. Holy Thursday, it was. I held my husband while he sobbed. I had never seen him cry before. I wasn't much of a crier either. No reason to cry. In fact, our life together was magical, certain, secure and happy. So few sad times. We are blessed with healthy and robust 90 year old parents, lots of siblings and great nieces & nephews. A wonderful circle of friends. A bad day was a delayed flight or a traffic jam, or missing my time goal in a marathon or a bad golf game or a lousy restaurant.
How lucky are we? Serious illness had never touched our family.
Turns out, these past 365 days have been extraordinary in so many unexpected ways. We've been supported and uplifted. Strangers became friends, and friends became family. We eventually stopped crying. Most of the time, anyway. We generally cry tears of joy these days. When a loving note arrives in the mail, or a pot of soup is left at our door. Kindness and open hearts bring tears to the surface. Sweet tears, not stinging tears.
This time, last year, I could never have imagined getting through this ALS thing. Not for a day let alone an entire year. It was surreal. Oh how I wanted and prayed for my old life. My real life. I wanted to awaken from this nightmare. It couldn't be ALS.
But it was. And it is.
To my friends here, in this place, thank you! You are my lifeline. My mentors. My inspiration. My compass. My jokers. I am especially grateful for having met many of you in person. That is the most amazing of all. Divine intervention, to be sure. I miss those friends who are no longer: Sharon, Rog, Doris, Bruce, Tom...
It would be a lie to say that I'm not scared of the year ahead. I am petrified. A new city. A new home. A new adjustment. A new normal.
I know, in my heart, it will be OK. Whatever "it" may be.
Thanks to each of you. My brave PALS and my wise CALS.
Here's to the next 365 days.
My world, and my life changed that sunny afternoon. Holy Thursday, it was. I held my husband while he sobbed. I had never seen him cry before. I wasn't much of a crier either. No reason to cry. In fact, our life together was magical, certain, secure and happy. So few sad times. We are blessed with healthy and robust 90 year old parents, lots of siblings and great nieces & nephews. A wonderful circle of friends. A bad day was a delayed flight or a traffic jam, or missing my time goal in a marathon or a bad golf game or a lousy restaurant.
How lucky are we? Serious illness had never touched our family.
Turns out, these past 365 days have been extraordinary in so many unexpected ways. We've been supported and uplifted. Strangers became friends, and friends became family. We eventually stopped crying. Most of the time, anyway. We generally cry tears of joy these days. When a loving note arrives in the mail, or a pot of soup is left at our door. Kindness and open hearts bring tears to the surface. Sweet tears, not stinging tears.
This time, last year, I could never have imagined getting through this ALS thing. Not for a day let alone an entire year. It was surreal. Oh how I wanted and prayed for my old life. My real life. I wanted to awaken from this nightmare. It couldn't be ALS.
But it was. And it is.
To my friends here, in this place, thank you! You are my lifeline. My mentors. My inspiration. My compass. My jokers. I am especially grateful for having met many of you in person. That is the most amazing of all. Divine intervention, to be sure. I miss those friends who are no longer: Sharon, Rog, Doris, Bruce, Tom...
It would be a lie to say that I'm not scared of the year ahead. I am petrified. A new city. A new home. A new adjustment. A new normal.
I know, in my heart, it will be OK. Whatever "it" may be.
Thanks to each of you. My brave PALS and my wise CALS.
Here's to the next 365 days.