I built this one in as a buffer, a challenge if you will. Unlike most, I appreciate the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone and see what happens. By not setting something specific for this one meant I couldn’t plan, and that in and of itself is out of my realm of comfort. God’s got it, he’s got me. I know that, I have faith in his plan and provisions, and appreciate when he steps in and takes it out of my hands. With that, this one on the list is hard, hard, hard for me.
ALS sucks, I say it every day, we have it on shirts, hashtag our activities on social media, see it’s torturous, ugly head creeping into all areas of our life. I always reveled in the secrecy of my diagnosis, being able to tell strangers and acquaintances that “My hands don’t work very well” like it wasn’t obvious, like it was my equivalent to a pregnancy announcement but without the excitement. Today, ALS was given a physical, tangible representation. I’m marked, obvious decline, noticeable difference. I don’t consider myself to be vain, but definitely conscious of my outward appearance and it’s reception by others. This addition is a blow to my image, my pride, my essence.
Of course I’m being somewhat facetious, I mean it’s a stupid cane not the plague or Ebola. Still, I’ll be 30 on Saturday and now walking with a cane, can’t no body tell me that was how you pictured life in your 30s. I am grateful for a simple fix for my balance issues, that this process is coming in phases rather than over night. I am grateful that my disease is progressing slowly, as I’ve met so many that haven’t been afforded that luxury. I am grateful for sweet friends who are ready to bling, bedazzle, decorate this cane to be reflective of my personality.
Life as we know it is ever evolving, changing. Kenneth is my rock, and can talk me off any ledge I find myself running towards. I am nervous about the looks. I am nervous about the questions. I am nervous about the undeniable reality this cane brings into my continual processing of having a terminal disease. I, Sunny Brous Erasmus, have a disease for which there is no cure, a disease that is going to get worse, much worse, before it gets better, and a disease that is going to kill me.
On the bright side, maybe I won’t fall as often (my teeth appreciate that). I have a cane that will soon be decorated with colors, sparkle, and rumor is a horn. I now have something to whack people or the cat with. I am stronger than the blow this cane is having on me emotionally, I have the tattoo on my foot to prove it. Remind me of that when I forget, I’m sure there will be many days that I’ll need it 🙂