Hot Dogs

The day I was diagnosed the doctor told me that I had the "better" kind of ALS.  She told me of her friend who had the "other" kind and of the horrible things she (or he, don't remember) had been through.  I guess she thought that by contrast, I had it pretty good. 

A few minutes after I was told I had a degenerative neuromuscular disease, I was being given 

instructions.  At this point nothing seemed very important.

She told me to be a couch potato; to eat fatty foods.  She told me my life would never be the same.

I ate hot dogs for lunch that day.