Wednesday, November 30, 2016


Today was a really great day!  Fun?  Yup.  Were there moments of deep sadness?  Yup.  But all around a really good day.

Today I saw Liz.  She reads my blog and she is going to be absolutely mortified that I am writing about her.  Sorry Liz (but not really).

Liz and I met through Adam.  She is married to a man whom Adam has known since his Ewing days (who or whom?). We connected upon our first meeting. We got married within a year of each other. We had our kids at about the same time.  We spent a lot of time together when our babies were little. And then I went back to work full time, and we just kind of went our separate ways.  No fault, just did.  Such is life sometimes, but over the years I have thought of Liz.  A lot.  Every time I saw this sign in gift shop, I thought of Liz.
Image result for good friends are like stars

Then I got diagnosed with ALS (the rotten, f*#kin' asshat) and I thought it is of the utmost importance for me to see and spend time with people I love.  I thought of all the great times Adam and I had when we were first married, and our kids were little with a few of his Ewing/college friends. Jen (an angel) offered to organize a dinner.  We couldn't get in touch with Liz by email or social media. So I did it the old fashioned way, via telephone call. I called Liz.  Soon after after the election.  When I was already feeling rocked with emotion.  When I was feeling low and defeated. I picked up the phone and called Liz.  As soon as I heard her voice, it was like the years melted away.  I told her my "news", we cried on the phone, she canceled her plans for that Sunday, and we ventured to Jen's house. For food, and laughter, and memories, and crying - deep, heart wrenching sobbing.  But it was good. Really good.

So today, Liz came for lunch. We picked up where we left off when Sarah and her daughter, Olivia, were eight.  No time has passed.  We talked for hours, ate more delicious food, and talked about my ALS, but also our kids, and memories, and our parents, and all the things that have impact on your lives when you are in your late 40s.  It was blissful!  And yes, we cried a bit.  But honestly we would have done that with or without the ALS so all is good.  I really treasured my time with her today and I wanted to let the world know (or at least my blog world).

A bit later in the day I went to see my therapist.  Not a PT, but my talk therapist.  I have been with her a long time.  I would recommend everyone have a therapist.  A good one.  But I digress.
We spoke about all the positive things going on in my life - the blog, my children's book writing, my kids, Adam, my community, Robbinsville, Sharon School, the bracelet fundraiser.  And some sad stuff too, but most of it was good.  Really good.  And before I knew it an hour had gone by.  Wow!  I am a person who lives with ALS and spoke to my therapist for an hour about all the positive things in my life.  That is really awesome.  I'm so blessed.

I came home and went straight to the bathroom (what else is new).  As I sat on the toilet, the edge of my sweater got stuck under my thigh.  I gave it a pull and proceeded to punch myself in the nose.  I began to laugh hysterically, on the toilet, in the bathroom, by myself.  Then I put my hand to my nose to see if it was bleeding, and it was just a little, which made my laugh even harder!  When I finally calmed down enough to finish up and come out of the bathroom, I realized that Adam was sitting close enough to hear me laughing in the bathroom to myself.  I told him what happened and he giggled.  Now that I am thinking about it, it is quite funny that Adam did not find it necessary to check on me as I was laughing in the bathroom.  It must be an ordinary occurrence.

We sat down to a delicious dinner made by a dear friend, Ean talking about swim and his grades, Gillian talking about her friends and school.  We sat at the table longer than usual and enjoyed each other's company.  Then Gillian climbed into my lap and Adam took a picture of us doing this:

And we laughed really hard.  My cheeks hurt from all the laughter and happiness I felt today.  The first month or so after my diagnosis, I focused a lot on preparing for the bad things that are/were going to happen to me.  Now I feel like I am living.  Just living.  Living comes with good, bad, and ugly.  But I am no longer focused on the icky stuff all the time.  Liz had this little pearl of wisdom today that I am sure I will get wrong.  It went something like this...No good can come from borrowing worry from the future.


  1. My goodness...I laughed heartily when you punched yourself in the nose! Is that wrong? XO Also: Matthew 6:27
    "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his lifespan?"