Maybe...

Okay. This isn't a pity party, just writing stuff down.

I have been sad today. I don't think anyone knew it, I didn't want anyone to know it, but I was. I laughed and joked and did all the regular things, but inside ran all those thoughts -- you know the ones.

My right arm gets so tired. It's so hard to move it very much; when I do, it hurts. By this time of day there's a soreness that runs from fingers to shoulder. And my dumb left hand, though stronger than the right, continues to decline. At work today I was less able to do certain things. As I said before, slow progression doesn't mean no progression. No one sees it, but I feel it.

I've been asked to go to Capitol Hill in early February, along with representatives from the national chapter of the ALS Association. I'm to be one of the "faces of ALS" as we meet with members of Congress to ask that they remember the 30,000 PALS as they plan their funding for research and healthcare. If given the opportunity, I'll say I'm there representing the ALS patients who can no longer walk or talk. I hope I acquit myself well -- I'd very much like to participate in the full-blown lobbying effort in May.

Anyway. I'm tired, my arm hurts, and it's time for bed. Maybe when I wake up it will be better.