A peek over the edge
Some days, most days, I can ignore it. The sound of rushing water, the gusts of wind, the smell of salt in the air. But some days, today, the waves roar like thunder.
See chronic illness, especially degenerative disease, feels precarious, like living life standing on a cliff edge.
We are all of us standing within reach of that ledge and if we listen closely we can hear the distant rumble of the waves, a terrifying reminder of the finality of it all. But it also makes us live, knowing each moment is fleeting, precious, and pushing us to experience it with our whole being.
With a chronic, degenerative disease, I can see how much closer to the edge I am, and every so often a wave crashes below and I'm minded of its proximity. My urologist described the risk of kidney damage from MS bladder issues, and mentioned in passing how irreparable any damage quickly becomes… a wave breaks somewhere below…
Most of the time I can ignore it, I need to ignore it, because everyone else is living and laughing and inviting me to join in.
I need to join in.
But today I can't hear their laughter, their merriment ignorant of the risk. Today I gave in, I couldn't ignore it, I screamed silently, wordlessly, in nameless dread. Today…