Today has been a tough day. My leg is in real pain, and after writing this morning’s post it became sharply clearer how much my speech has changed. A lovely friend came round and asked to move his chair so he could hear me. An innocent remark. Entirely without malice. But it carried weight.
I gave thought to closing the blog. The impulsiveness that comes with PSP pushed me toward it. Instead, I’m going to write shorter pieces, and only when I actually have something to say, as I do now.
There are times of day when typing works better, and others when dictation does. I’ll find a way. This is my main outlet and I intend to keep it.
I no longer use the language of war and fighting with PSP. I accept what it is likely to do to me, and what it is already doing. But I am not going to give it free credits by surrendering my sense of purpose. That I won’t do.
This morning I spoke by chat with a newly diagnosed patient. It gave me a genuine lift, both to offer something and to receive something back. That exchange mattered.
I will stop writing when I have no choice. That may be tomorrow or many years from now. I refuse to pre-empt the decision.
Today, with the leg pain and the dictation, it felt as though the ground was caving in. It still does, a little. But here I am.
This is not bravery. It is necessity. I have a purpose, and I intend to see it through.
