I read every word you write, but I must admit it's difficult to follow along when you sign. I want to read the captions, but it's hard for me to take my eye's off of you. Suprise suprise huh...🥰
These posts sadden me while I'm reading them, but then my thought's turn to gratitude, because I'm reading YOUR thoughts! Another day alive, another beautiful thought to share, another moment of thanks to the Lord for blessing me with you! Bailey, you are a gift, a blessing, a treasure to cherish and enjoy. God bless and know you are in my prayers every single day! I love you! 🙏🥰
You asked about relating—well, first of all, I think my relating comes via problems about 2% as challenging as yours… ankylosing spondylitis that developed in high school that was barely treated but not actually diagnosed until about 18 years later when I changed school districts while teaching high school. Fortunately now I’m apparently old enough that I haven’t had any flares of joint or iris challenges for some time—just some discomfort in my self-fusing spine that simple pain meds mostly cover. Of course, about 4 years ago I began treatments for bladder cancer. Thankfully (probably should do that in all caps, after immunotherapy, chemotherapy, and finally surgery, there’s been no sign of cancer since surgery a little over 2 years ago. Perseverance (I had learned a lot about that while doing several MS Bike Tours) has served me well—life, like the 150-mile bike tours, isn’t a race, it’s a tour. In my case the tour is supported by family and faith more than I can say. I miss my wife, whose tour ended almost 2 years ago and whose challenges along our 51-year tour together far outpaced mine, but we were a quite a team through it all.
So… as much as I personally can, I can relate some—at least a little bit—to your trials. And sometimes during life’s tours, the best thing we can do is keep on pedaling—all the way to Lake Erie.
May you find many little patches of peace on your journey—and maybe now and the some great ones.
I get it completely, the never ended tests and is exhausting. My hand stop working last week and I don’t want to have the MRI’s and EMG’s. Ugh!!
I read every word you write, but I must admit it's difficult to follow along when you sign. I want to read the captions, but it's hard for me to take my eye's off of you. Suprise suprise huh...🥰
These posts sadden me while I'm reading them, but then my thought's turn to gratitude, because I'm reading YOUR thoughts! Another day alive, another beautiful thought to share, another moment of thanks to the Lord for blessing me with you! Bailey, you are a gift, a blessing, a treasure to cherish and enjoy. God bless and know you are in my prayers every single day! I love you! 🙏🥰
You asked about relating—well, first of all, I think my relating comes via problems about 2% as challenging as yours… ankylosing spondylitis that developed in high school that was barely treated but not actually diagnosed until about 18 years later when I changed school districts while teaching high school. Fortunately now I’m apparently old enough that I haven’t had any flares of joint or iris challenges for some time—just some discomfort in my self-fusing spine that simple pain meds mostly cover. Of course, about 4 years ago I began treatments for bladder cancer. Thankfully (probably should do that in all caps, after immunotherapy, chemotherapy, and finally surgery, there’s been no sign of cancer since surgery a little over 2 years ago. Perseverance (I had learned a lot about that while doing several MS Bike Tours) has served me well—life, like the 150-mile bike tours, isn’t a race, it’s a tour. In my case the tour is supported by family and faith more than I can say. I miss my wife, whose tour ended almost 2 years ago and whose challenges along our 51-year tour together far outpaced mine, but we were a quite a team through it all.
So… as much as I personally can, I can relate some—at least a little bit—to your trials. And sometimes during life’s tours, the best thing we can do is keep on pedaling—all the way to Lake Erie.
May you find many little patches of peace on your journey—and maybe now and the some great ones.