Striving for continuity

Life switched to slow motion in November, but the rag doll state started creeping in inadvertently long before (hindsight is very helpful in order to move forward).  I felt the urgent need for a vacation, something uncommon in me. I love my work...I love hard work and enjoy it.  Then my eyes started acting up. I chalked it up to age...you know, the arms get shorter. My ability to judge distances when driving or skiing a race course were slightly impaired. When September arrived, a killer flu got a hold of me and I spent 2 days in bed with a fever.

The ski season ended and we all returned to reality. I had to once again face up close my father's slow death, my one sister's obsessive rebellion against the indifference, abandonment and indolence of the rest of our siblings towards his suffering; my son dropping out of school and the state of my personal relationships.

The snowflake disease

I've been meaning to write about this companion of 22 years which makes it's appearance every 10 years or so since I became aware of it...and, curiously, I just found out they call it the snowflake disease.  That's a very fitting name.  Myasthenia gravis is an especially unique affection different in each of us who have the privilege of experiencing it.

I'm not a masochist.  I'd rather have control over my body again, but I have the Snowflake to thank for the heightened awareness of knowing I sometimes possess a body and for the creativeness of dealing with my environment during those times when I'm trapped in the rag doll.

Since November 2010, I am trapped by the rag doll once more.