Another reason PH sucks

Most PHers and caregivers are aware of the physical aspects of the disease. Many also know the emotional side.

When I got my diagnosis, I worked full time as a copy editor. My job entailed sitting at a desk. The work was 98 percent mental. The editorial department resides on the third floor. When the elevator quit working (which it seemed to do frequently, especially during cold weather) I had the nearest person take me to the third floor via the freight elevator. A time or two neither elevator was operational. So, no work that day. I kept going and seldom let the symptoms slow me down.

Then I was a part of a layoff. I found myself without anything to do. I began to doubt my worth.

At first, former colleagues would e-mail or phone. Gradually that ceased. Only a few stayed in touch.

I made friends on the Internet. I became close to several. Then those friends began to die. I found my new world disintegrating. Physically I began to deterioriate, though at first I did not notice.

Finally the combination of physical and mental corrosion sent me careening into an abyss. Overwhelming sadness enveloped me. I curled up on the couch and pulled the blanket over my head for months.

Several PHriends and friends sent out lifelines. Their understanding and love kept me afloat.

Now I work my way out of the mental muck. Some days I slip and fall. Others I almost reach the top.

Thanks PHriends and friends.

Later, Dude.