ALS is a BEAST

I can no longer say what is on my mind. I am not able to pick up the phone and call a friend and have a spontaneous conversation to discuss the days events.  I can no longer give words of encouragement without hesitation. I am no longer privileged to pick up the phone and encourage my daughter through difficult times.   I can't speak all the sweet thoughts to my grand baby.   This is harder than I could have ever imagined. ALS is a beast!  

I Am The Fixer

I am mom. I am the fixer. I have the answers. I take care of the little things. I take care of the big things. I put out fires before they start. And if they are already flaming I know how to put it out and make sure everyone and everything is patched up. I am mom. I am the fixer. I know what is going to happen even before it is thought of. I am mom. But now I can't fix things anymore. My mind races with the things that I should be doing. I have important things to say. I have phone calls to make. Appointments that need scheduled. Questions for the insurance company. Decisions to make. But to do all that you must use the phone. I can't use the phone. I need assistance. That makes me want to scream. I am mom. I am the fixer. I have the answers. Not anymore, now I am mom with ALS. I miss conversation. I miss interaction with friends. It takes so much energy. I am stingy with whom I will use energy on. My family. I am mom.
ALS steals spontaneity. ALS steals independence. ALS steals conversation. ALS is heartbreaking.