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Terrorist Threat?

ALS is a real terror, or maybe it's a terrorist. I mean, it came out of nowhere, launching an insidious attack on all parts of my body. (Actually, all parts of our bodies, as I am not the only one.) ALS attacks everyone of us differently but it is never kind and it ain't pretty.  It's devastating. And that does not describe it.

The only experience I'm really qualified to report on is mine. ALS symptoms first manifested in my right index finger. I noticed that I lost the ability to pinch a binder clip open. Then I realized I was having difficulty lifting heavy files from the upper file cabinets. Next, it occurred to me that  I'd been making an unusually high amount of typographical errors, particularly those letters typed with the index finger. I was unusually stressed, sniping at my husband, and fed up with my tax-evading employer. I finally broke under the pressure, telling my boss that I refused to commit fraud on their behalf, sealing my fate with the company. (I digress.)

On any given day, I could be overwrought with emotion. I was indignant with my boss' choices ;outraged with a lack of customer service I sorely needed; panic-stricken when my job was threatened (went to the hospital over it).  Physically, some days I could not lift my right arm without parathesia, muscle twitches (fasciculations), muscle spasms. Other days I'd be bent over in pain like I was in a car accident, hobbled-up and limping. I was compelled to file a labor and industries claim thinking I had carpal tunnel syndrome. If only...

That was only the beginning. My husband says I was wheelchair bound inside of six months, actually it was 10 months and what a ride!  I don't recommend it. I blew through limping, cane, walker, manual wheelchair and graduated to the "show", a loaned Permobile power wheelchair. .My emotions went to extremes. I would buckle in grief when my sister or mother flaked and failed to pick me up for water aerobics. I cried mournfully at sober meetings and anytime I told someone that I had Lou Gehrig's Disease. I laughed at inappropriate times, like when a man was telling us about his wife who passed from ALS. Awkward! And excruciatingly humiliating. My anger flared. My lust thankfully only poured forth on my husband. (I hope he enjoyed it.)

Perhaps, ALS is more like a shock and awe war that will not quit.

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