Sometimes, like today, I feel like my whole life was designed for someone else.
I have beautiful, happy, healthy kids. My husband is handsome and charming and works his ass off for his family. We have a great house with plenty of room for everyone, and even our dogs are almost as great as having a cat would be…
Then there’s me. I rarely go into half of our house, cause its upstairs and I have to scoot/crawl/etc. to get up there. I can’t teach my kids to ride a bike, or do lots of other stuff that requires working legs. My husband deserves a sexy wife, not one with shriveled up legs and currently a swollen eyelid (my body doesn’t like me, so it attacks in all sorts of ways).
I’m hurting, probably hormonal, and just whiny in general, but sometimes I’m so tired of fighting. This life wasn’t designed for people like me. My family deserves better.
Alright, enough of a pity party. I’m here right? Got to suck it up and do the best I can. I’m trying to be brave, but I desperately fear being useless. Okay, here’s some motivation…
One day I will do this, and I’ll be sure to write about it too. If I’m in a perfect position to do anything in this life, it’s to flash dance in my wheelchair while riding around town.
There are some things in life that are difficult for me to understand. This issue is one of them.
I can’t understand why it is ok to put our dog out of its misery when it is old and can hardly eat, but when it comes to our grandfather…well, that’s just inhuman. We explain to our kids how “the right thing to do” is to put our cat down after being hit by a car, but when our loved one can only speak long enough to beg us to help them go quickly…we are appalled by the thought of “murdering” them.
We (as a society) say that it is okay to have an abortion, but when our own grandmother, who has lived a long, full, dignified life is now unable to control her bowels and bladder, not to mention her mind…it is best to just clean her up and pretend that she wants to exist as long as possible in a hospital room that she is frightened of each morning.
On movies and in reality, we often hear people say “at least he/she died doing what he or she loved.” Meanwhile, the father who gave 30 years of his life in service to our country is in so much pain that he can’t even see or hear his kids because his head is thrown back in screams of horror…it would have been okay if he died in the war, but we are going to make his life as long as possible here on our soil.
It is one thing when our loved one wants to fight, wants to live, tries to deal with the pain since it means they can still see their family and friends, etc.
When people are in horrible pain; when they are scared of each new day and in brief moments of sanity, beg us to kill them; when days or weeks of helpless humiliation are all they have left before they pass away…how can we ignore the real issue and only focus on serving our own purposes. Are we really that selfish? If you think the quality of life is not important…well, I don’t understand that.