Skip to main content

ALS Gifts: People, Part 2

Had I not gotten ALS, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to meet so many new and interesting people, nor had the opportunity to get to know the heart of the people already in my life.

People with ALS that impacted me but lost their battle.

Where do I begin? Gail Dubose came to our support group meeting in Kent only a few times but I remember her. She relied on her ex-husband before going into assisted living, then she was gone. I never would've known had I not "friended" her on Facebook. Notification of her funeral came in the form of a Facebook event post by her surviving family members. Unfortunately, my husband had a belly full of ALS and wouldn't take me to the service.

I got to know people from all over the world thanks to the website www.patientslikeme.com.
It was there that I met so many PALS; we support each other to the bitter end, we can't help but become invested in each other, we're on the same plight. But this support comes with a downside, without that cure, we lose our precious friends. Lots of them!! I'll name a few that touched me and that I grieve:  Bob Anderson, Peggy Freed, Patricia Mistretta Sciarrino...

This past week I lost a PALS, a person here at the hospice facility, a person whom I related to but was unable to communicate with directly due to our mutual communication challenges. Peter Roane from Maine. A man who built his own homes, built and raced cars, and jumped from perfectly good airplanes. I know precious little about this adorable man but I did see intelligence and a wicked sense of humor. He hugged with his legs and spoke volumes with his eyes and smile. I liked him, a lot. When I was more mobile, I drove down the hall to his room to watch NASCAR when I remembered (once) and to watch Game of Thrones (once). I hesitated to overstay my welcome and become a pest. Then, I could no longer pilot my own wheelchair. My hope is that he knew the extent of my esteem for him. I miss him so much!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I Remember...

I remember catching fireflies,  putting them in a jar, as a girl of five. I picked pears off a tree that overhung an alleyway on my route home from school, then enjoyed the forbidden fruit. .I had a golden cat who chased a gray mouse through our living room sending my mother, 3-year old sister, and me screaming atop the sofa and chairs. We lived in a farmhouse and I watched Romper Room. A daddy longlegs skittered across my dirty kid legs as I teeter-tottered on a broken kitchen chair back. I played grocery store and laid out a bedroll for group nap time in preschool. We lived in an apartment attached to a bakery. My maternal grandparents visited and a photo was snapped. Grandma held Dawn and Grandpa held me. I held Grandpa's chin. Walking through the back of the flour-caked kitchen, I saw scrumptious pastries and colorful toys stuck in the cupcakes with my hungry kids eyes. We lived in a two-story apartment building next door to a large farmer's field.  That field was my...

I Heart Trellis

Early in our relationship, though we were traditional nine-to-fivers, we were driven to create something together. At 36 and 43-years old, respectively, we were beyond creating babies. Besides, we came into our relationship with a perfect daughter each. Mine was 13 and his, twenty-three. Both blonde, bright, and beautiful and his came with a bonus, a baby! I came into the relationship with a condo that needed no work. He had a work-in-progress in the woods, actually two. We would spend our lives together redesigning and improving these "cabins in the woods". But, before that we took an afternoon cutting down young alders to use to make a trellis. Working together, we .wove supple, young branches into a nine-foot tall trellis with two hearts stacked one atop the other. We were in the gooey, sickeningly sweet, first months of love, forging a new life together. Here we are seventeen years later, separated by circumstance, through no fault of our own. I live in a hospice faci...

Tuesday

Tuesday is shaping up to be my best day of the week. Every day holds the requisite eating, changing, television, and napping. But Tuesday, I got a glorious, hot bath in a handicap-accessible bathtub with my Angela and Lisa, reorganized my shower caddy with my Lisa, read "The White Album" by Joan Didion with my Lindsey, "supervised" doughnut-making and sampled same with my Sandra among others, and listened to Ryan Feng play classical piano. A new book fell into my lap today. Of course, I mean that figuratively. "Play It As It Lays" by Joan Didion was just laying on top of the informal Bailey Boushay House library cart, so I borrowed it. .Guess what we'll be reading? I feel very blessed!