Small changes, just a little at a time. So you don' t really notice too much; but the friend who hasn't seen you for a year gasps in disgust before quickly hiding her reaction under an ever so plesant "Oh it's so great to see you again!"
...Though to be honest the friend who hasn't seen you for a year will probably pass by without so much as a glance, not even recognizing the thing you have become.
Little bits and peices; changes; odd things; 'unusual' things; unwelcome things. The inevitable decay that one expects to meet eventually - but not at 41. Such a surprise, such a mystery, to start sliding down that slippery slope at such an age. With so much left to do, so much left to BE.
At our first meeting, I was unstoppable; just a little time; a little rest - all would be good as new. Now we have been constant companions for these 2 years - everything is different. I know the power, the relentless strength, and the me that I was is only a faint memory.
Every assault digs a little deeper, eats away a little more at your belief that one day you'll 'beat this thing', tearing away flesh and bone and spirit; gobbling it down as if it were a delicious treat.
Its so hard to believe when the scoreboard is always against you and gaining.
I had always prayed for a quick death; just to go in my sleep unexpectedly. Seems like a cruel joke to drag it out like this; just a TINY dose of death EVERY DAY and plenty of TIME to watch it happen.
Just small changes, just a little at at time.
1 comments:
Jeannie, your writing is so beautiful and you capture the essence of what it feels like to have your identity torn from you bit by bit by an illness. I think one of the most hurtful moments is when I see an old friend and that look of shock on their face. I feel so hideous on the inside, to have it refected on the outside is painful.
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