Of late I’ve been navigating choppy waters, my physical problems becoming ever more pronounced and complicated, the progression of my disease along with its attendant disabilities charging ahead relentlessly.At this stage of the game I’m fully aware that there are no easy answers forthcoming.
Still, even as the body flounders my spirit soldiers on, admittedly bowed but still unbroken.
Though on an intellectual level I’ve long recognized the ruinous damage that can be wrought by progressive MS, I honestly never imagined or expected that I’d reach the level of decrepitude at which I now find myself.
Given my extensive laundry list of failed and failing body parts, at this point there are moments when I realize how easy it would be to simply throw in the towel.
Instead, I choose to continue the fight, and even in the midst of my ongoing crises of spirit and body, I can’t help but wonder, why?
What is the nature of the spark within that steadfastly refuses to be doused?