I forgot that thanksgiving is tomorrow. It makes me sad, hearing nothing before I sleep. When I close my eyes I see red. A cacophony of shrieks and laughter, the kind of noise only young children can make echoes through the house. They were young still then, ruddy cheeks giddy with excitement. She was making pancakes and coffee and I was pushing the boys on the sleds, out around back of the old garage change to airplane . It was the last time I remember running, racing them down the small snowy slope, pushing them over, sprinting away as they scrambled to get out of the sleds, arguing over how best to get back at me. I try to fall asleep with my eyes open. 

It’s the strangest feeling, knowing what your future is. You can live with it for a while, with careful exercise and a healthy diet, but eventually it will overcome you. The way I look at it everybody’s got something…I just got this disease. We’re all just trying to make each day worth living. I suppose all we got is hope, and I won’t let this take that away from me. At least I hope I won’t. The faded yellow curtain dances in the morning sunlight, catching the slight breeze that comes from outside. Some mornings I just lay here, letting the morning sun bathe my face, trying not to move just yet, trying to remember what it was like to live without pain.

The stillness in the house is eerie. If I hadn’t woken up to the loudness of silence for months, I would be disturbed. I walked to the pharmacy yesterday, all on my own without the stupid cane they gave me. My knees sometimes grow stiff. Like I’ve got two pieces of metal that are impossible to bend. Sometimes I have to swing them around in a big loop. One after another. Yesterday I could walk all the way there and back though. Only took me thirty minutes too. But this morning my hands tremble. I force myself to the kitchen, drawing big circles with my legs.

Someone’s moving in to the house next door. I can see the orange Uhaul from my window. Its disrupting the usual silence. I want to open the door and walk over but every time I stand the world starts to spin. It makes me nauseous. Today is one of the worst I’ve had in a while. The doctor think I need to change medications but it seems to me they’re all the same. Some days are just bad days.