Friday, July 30, 2021

I try to consider all of the ways in which I am fortunate

I try to consider all of the ways in which I am fortunate. 

I have parents who love me and take care of me. (The details of "take care of me" are indeed quite extensive.) I have a roof over my head and plenty of food in my belly. I have friends and family to talk to, spend time with, and laugh. I have money in the bank and don't, thus far, struggle to pay my bills. The progression of my disease has been unusually, odds-defyingly slow.

I live in a time when so much is available to me, of historically unprecedented understanding. Social Security Disability Insurance exists; Medicare exists. I'm privileged to have worked five years for an employer that provided private disability insurance. I'm able to work part-time from my house on a computer.

Medicare―along with supplemental insurance which I pay for―bought me a battery-powered, technically advanced, joystick-operated wheelchair. In this way I've been able to maintain some semblance of independence. I was able to purchase an accessible van to transport my conveyance. I'm fortunate that these things exist.

I live in the age of computers, of easily and endlessly available knowledge and entertainment. For all of the modern methods of communication, to help me feel a little less alone. I'm lucky for pen and pencil alternatives: the mouse in my hand and point and click on-screen keyboard. 

It's easy to forget about all of it, and usually, I do. But I have to remind myself of the good things, and try to give them some weight in my mind.

Saturday, July 24, 2021