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One of the most common questions I am
asked is "Doug, you've got a terminal
disease...how do you stay 'up' all of the
time?". And the answer is simple, I don't.
There are days when the few muscles I have
left won't do what I want them to do. And that
gets discouraging...real discouraging. Because
when my muscles crap out, I know they're gone
for good. My discouragement can run from mild
annoyance to bouts of heavy sobbing. But they
generally pass fairly quickly because I'm busy
trying to figure out a new way to use
different muscles (that still work) to get the
job done. I haven't failed yet, and it's
amazing the sense of accomplishment that can
be derived from figuring out a new way to pull
up your pants. But after I get over gloating
(giggle), I have a choice to make: Do I let
ALS dictate how I am perceived by others, or
do I find joy in the simple fact that I am
still alive and kicking?
On my guestbook page, I say that "It is the people we touch, and how they remember us, that define our lives on earth." I have to decide if I am going to allow the inevitable, relentless progression of ALS to impact my legacy. I think not. So I choose to smile; I choose to laugh; I choose to totally disrespect ALS. Everyone is bound by a set of circumstances over which they have no control. Their height; their color; their ancestry; their predilection for disease. I have found that I stay happiest when I only worry about those things over which I have control. Why be miserable about having a terminal disease? We're all terminal. But today I am not dead. I didn't die yesterday, and, God willing, I won't die tomorrow. So today, I will choose how I will be perceived and remembered: as a miserable, spiteful man with ALS?; or as a guy who lived, and loved, and laughed, who also had ALS? I choose the latter... |