Fearing the fear

Thoughtfulness represents a gift from the heart and costs nary a dime. Thoughtfulness benefits twice. Try offering something to others. The gift can be as simple as a phone call or note. Yesterday, another's thoughtfulness cheered me significantly.

Perhaps the clouds lift some. Now I feel numb. I wonder if I enjoy wallowing in self-pity. The answer resounds: NO! I want friends; I want to be liked. No one likes a self-absorbed cry baby. An Eeyore if you will. I take steps to push the gloomy donkey away, but maybe I fear losing the identity I have held onto for so many, many years.

My friends would laugh. They know the me that smiles, works hard, helps others. Little do they know inside resides a scared, depressed child. Someone who fears standing up for herself. Someone who no longer knows who she is.

The pulmonary hypertension plays a role in this fear that hounds me. I am torn. The disease kills. I know at anytime I could get worse. So that fear lurks on the horizon most of the time.

Right now PH has no glamorous telethon, no celebrity pitchman. The Pulmonary Hypertension Association serves as the clearinghouse/info center/etc. for the disease. When I first logged into the site five years ago, it was a smallish organization. Today it pushes hard for fund-raising, etc. I think the group has lost much of its personal aspects in an effort to get the disease before the public. PHA has morphed into a monster. It has a staff of 37 and moved into larger offices. The CEO twice offered apologies for incompetent emails sent out under his name. The organization has helped get the word out. They do have good programs. I am just not sure about the brains.

* * *

Well, dude, Spain did it! Lance faltered.

Later.