gratitude

My daughter was in a mood yesterday, understandable but irritating all the same. I'm pleased to know that the fog of my pain isn't effecting her too much but will I ever really know how much? 

My day ended with her snuggled into my arms and me kissing her forehead as I hid my fear and tears. She clung on and then went to bed. I read my book to forget and then slept. 

Each day a gift and right now, a small torment. Tiny really. I count my blessings and try not to worry about the possibility of a future where I'm not able to be me. 

This disease doesn't let up. Over and over again, the next step towards the next step of an unknown future. I could be totally fine or really not and I could be an almost infinite range of things in-between. 

It's that, I think, that's hardest - perhaps if I was certain I'd lose the use of my arms or know I wouldn't be able to speak then I could prepare. 

But for now I'm just going to have to keep pretending I'm fine.