Starting off is always the hardest and not just in blogging obviously. The first day of school, first day at a new job, the first day of the rest of your life… You know what I mean? Well my first hand in the card game of life was dealt to me at the age of 8. Lets rewind and then I’ll show you my hand.
Honestly I can’t tell you when it all started. As far back as I can remember I always felt weak. I always felt like I couldn’t keep up with my friends, that I never seemed to have that sparkle of energy they all ran around with. The earliest memory I have of an exact instance where my little self knew I was different was when I was 4. I was just learning to ride a big kid bike along with my little bro (he’s 1 year younger but we were and are inseparable). We hadn’t been out there for more than 15 minutes when I started to feel so exhausted. My body grew weak, my arms and legs fatigued, and then… black out. I can only imagine the site of my little body slumped over my handlebars, barely sitting on the seat. Thank God for training wheels! I don’t remember how my parents handled this, all I remember is that feeling before the blackout. So helpless and weak.
Fast-forward 4 years. My weakness was starting to become an issue. As I was getting older it was becoming more apparent to my parents that something was wrong inside my body. I was frequently visiting Dr. B for difficulty walking, for my fatigue and overall tiredness. He was puzzled. He prescribed physical and occupational therapy to see if that could help me learn to live differently; To move my body in a way to preserve my energy. Shortly thereafter I got worse. My muscles knotted up so tightly even my massage therapist couldn’t work them out, my urine turned dark and I was losing muscle protein rapidly, and then shortly after the protein loss the worse happened. I woke up unable to move my legs. My memory of this morning is strange. I don’t remember feeling fear, anger, or confusion over being paralyzed from the waist down but that I was upset I was missing a “very important test”. Hahaha, oh I loved school! This whole leg issue was going to make me miss a test I had been studying very hard for! I was 8…I should have been freaking out, crying, scared. What WAS wrong with me? My 24-year-old self looks back at my 8-year-old self and feels a strange sense of pride. Nothing was wrong with me. Physically yes, obviously. But my heart and my mind they were outstanding. I consider this day, this experience as my first hand. I can’t tell you just yet how this hand plays out, because many cards are dealt and discarded over the years. But for an 8-year-old, I’d have to say I man handled this hand! I stared it straight in the face and I didn’t let it scare me. I was all in. Is there any other way to play in life? I guess so but that’s not very exciting is it?