Reviewing the bucket list

     Shortly after my diagnosis, I wrote out a bucket list. Recently I looked it over and discovered I can check many items off as done.
     Some of those that are left undone will have to remain so, because I am not very bucketable any more. But many, while technically undone, have been fulfilled in spirit.
     We did not go on a cruise to Alaska. We did, however, take a whale watching cruise in the San Juan Islands. No glaciers, but much more spacious accommodations at our resort.
     We never went to Italy, but we did stay at the Venetian in Las Vegas. Not close, I know- but we also watch a lot of Rick Steves, so that counts.
     I never did go to the Olympics. I did go to the track and field trials when they were in Sacramento and I watched the Olympic torch go by the year the games were in L.A. , and that's closer than most people get.
     So, all in all, I've done pretty well on the bucket list. There are items that I know I never will fulfill; I'm all right with most, but some I do sincerely regret.
    I haven't resumed contact with all the old friends I had meant to. If you read this, old friends, please know I have been thinking of you. As a friend once said, "If you never hear from me again, you aren't listening."
     I regret that I haven't published my Tomato Book. (But there is still time. If anyone knows a good literary agent please contact me!)
     I regret that I was never able to volunteer as much as I wanted.
     I regret that I won't see my grandchildren grow up.
     I regret that I will leave my husband alone.
     But, I have had an exceptionally good life, filled with good friends and good experiences. I am lucky.
     ALS, however, still sucks.
     And I still would have liked to see Italy.
       
    

    
Slowing  Down, But Getting By

     Yes, I'm still here, and yes, after all these months I'm still writing. Or rather, I'm dictating, someone else is writing, and someone else will type this blog.
     I look back at my last entry and am appalled at how optimistic it was-not just optimistic but so Pollyanna, rose-coloured, unrealistic it was.
     I have been tackled. I am not conceding the game and I am still, slowly and erratically, running, but there is no way around it: I have been tackled-hard.
     It is very difficult for me to speak. My voice recognition software doesn't recognize my sounds as words. I can hardly move at all. Eating and drinking are getting harder and harder. I am more and more dependent every day.
     Things are getting worse and time is getting shorter. Optimism is getting harder to find- but it's still there.Not the sticky, sweet kind that drips all over my last blog entry, but the kind that comes from the love and support of others. Without friends, family and most especially my sweetheart, I would not be doing as well as I am.