Priority.

Priorities

It happens. More and more often I ask myself what I could give up, once I recover my health. One thing I’m sure I couldn’t give up: the person who’s giving up the chance of a normal life to stay by my side, fighting with me every day and waking up five times (at least) every night.

Compared to this, every sacrifice would be a privilege.

In a life that gave me so much and took back even more, thinking about recovery becomes a duty. For now I have the love of the woman I love. And that’s not bad for a start.

I still miss the voice to shout her my LOVE (as if capitals could equal screams, this is how bad I am faring).

I miss working fingers to make up for this vocal shortcomings by writing at the speed of sound (we’re still working on attaining the speed of light).

It’s true, I write with my beautiful eyes, but you know how it goes, by the time I finish writing my beautiful idea, my friends are already done, have laughed and are on something else. In other words, my heart is not in it.

I miss breathing with my dear little lungs, without the bloody machine with its pipe ; and I’m sorry to say I don’t think my respiratory system will start working again. So… my future will be with a little cart-holding-the-machine-and-its-pipe.

Tracheostomy means I can’t swallow, so no drinking, (sigh…) no eating, no stuffing myself, getting wasted, gobbling, binging… Too bad.

But not all is lost. Motor muscles will recover. I’ll walk, move my hands, write, use the pc, scratch myself, ride a bike, drive (driving licence, here I come), mount stairs, fly, travel, wash myself, I’ll even be able to make love (taking my time so as not to tangle the pipe, bebe)…

I’ll forget sports, since what good does it do to go skiing without stopping in the lodge for an eggnog liquor with whipped cream and a slice of strudel (Tyrolean apple pie) ?

Or to do 18 holes with friends without a little beer at the 19th ?

Instead, I must design a waterproof backpack or other kind of bag for my catshit
Well, consider me crazy, immature, irrational, dreamer, but right now I feel the need to see a future for myself.

Am I asking too much ?