Some is my own doing; some is a consequence of declining mobility and function. But no doubt, my world is shrinking. My constant go, go, go has been reduced to a single go and rest the remainder of the day. Friendships have diminished; some have extinguished.
Much of my time is consumed with medical appointments, researching and trying out the technology that is slowly replacing my own functionality. This week it’s a bed that rotates my entire body from left to right. Ahhh. I’m so excited at the thought of being able to move again in bed! An able-bodied person moves every 11 minutes during sleep. I move a total of zero times if unaided by a rotating bed or tired husband.
Eye-gaze and speech to text technology will soon replace my failing hands. It’s a good news bad news thing. The bad news is my hands are failing, the good news is there is technology available to replace clicking and typing with my hands. Thanks VA Healthcare for providing all the technology I need without putting up much of a fight.
ALS can be physically isolating. I miss full-on hugs. They’ve been replaced by awkward side arm hugs from my power chair. I miss easily visiting a friend’s house. Steps and door thresholds are not friendly to me. Sure ramps can typically get me in the door, but then there are those pesky rugs and tight corners. I would hate to take a chunk out of your drywall.
ALS can be socially isolating as well. Eating is now a difficult and messy proposition and many social interactions revolve around food and drink. I’m sure I’ll get used to the stares and mess. But for now it’s still embarrassing. I’m transitioning from a social butterfly extrovert to a peaceful introvert. I’m growing more comfortable with extended periods alone with my thoughts. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It is what it is.
Is my shrinking world a function of age? Disability? Wisdom? Isolation? Self-pity? I’m not sure. Oh wow. This is sounding like a pity party that needs to end. Let’s focus on gratitude. I’ve got a lot to look forward to and even more for which to be thankful.
I hope to be participating in the next arm of the GDC-0134 phase I clinical trial slated for January. If all goes as planned, I will be taking the new drug every day for two months. Hope is exciting stuff.
I’m Forgiven and Free