Disability – 12/9/12 – Sunday – Basically I am feeling the same as yesterday, physically. I actually thought that my toes on my right numb foot curled better, but maybe that was my imagination or wishful thinking. It gave me a little hope. You know if I just had even small improvements each week that would give me something to hold onto. But as I usually do, I do too much I guess. I cleaned my bathroom (which took forever because I have to move so slowly), did my exercise, went to the gym with more exercises, and went to Walmart. By then my right leg was feeling so exhausted that I could barely walk. This is what always happens; I feel a little better so I overdo it and pay the consequences later in the day. This is what caused me to have my meltdown the other day—having to do chores by myself and paying for it. I started to get on the pity-pot again because I am really scared that I will have to go on permanent disability and believe it or not, I don’t want to. I just don’t think that I can continue to feel so physically sore and unbalanced each day and go on with this. I can now empathize with Aunt Gladys who had severe pain each and every day, but lived with it. She had numerous unsuccessful spinal surgeries, yet she always maintained hope that helped her go on. She was such a trooper and I always admired her, but now even more for her courage. A number of months ago I was in a funk regarding my job because I was burnt out. I kept saying out loud that I didn’t want to keep doing this job. I kept trying to think of a way that I could go on disability—maybe mental, maybe back, who knows! But the mental disability would stigmatize me and my physical problems were not that bad. But, be careful what you wish for, it just might come true. Remember when I wanted to leave my job in Manhattan and somehow, in a horrible twist of fate, I got laid off a year after the 9/11 attacks. Now, in another ironic twist, I am facing disability. I kept saying, “OK God, this is not how I wanted it to be.” But then I thought that I never really specified how I wanted this achieved so, God has in some ways given me a way out, but not how I wanted it. Disability (if you’re not faking it) means just that YOU ARE DISABLED and unable to work. It does not mean that you get paid for staying home and then can go gallivanting around town, feeling great. No, I am paying for this and I wish to God I never had this. I thought I’d be one of those 60 year olds in great physical shape, exercising and running forever. I never, in a million years fathomed that this would be my life. I am trying to maintain hope that this will get better, but I am finding it hard to accept that maybe it won’t. There is not one day when hope lasts. It ebbs and flows and I never know when a feeling of hopelessness will overtake me or when I can see some light at the end of all this. It is a roller coaster world each day. I must continue to pray for some type of miracle.