I hate ALS.
This disease took more from Dad than his final breath:
ALS stole his speech.
ALS stole his ability to eat, or even swallow his own saliva.
ALS stole enjoying a cup of coffee with friends at Waffle House.
ALS stole cruising through the mountains on his Harley.
ALS stole wood-chopping and physical chores he enjoyed.
ALS stole a good mechanic’s ability to work on his own car.
ALS stole hiking in the woods.
ALS stole his pride.
ALS stole his independence.
ALS stole his enjoyment of life.
ALS stole his laughter.
ALS stole his hope.
ALS stole my dad long before he died.
ALS, (aka Lou Gehrig’s disease) turned my father into a man I hardly knew. A man who didn’t know who to be or how to live if he couldn’t do all the things that made him, him.
There is no cure for this disease.
Current treatments may extend life a few months or make a person slightly more comfortable as their body betrays them little by little — but that’s poor consolation to anyone diagnosed with what is essentially a slow, cruel death sentence. It’s cruel to the victims of the disease, and cruel to all who care about them.
Every 90 minutes, someone in America is diagnosed with ALS, and someone else loses the battle against the disease.
May is ALS Awareness Month.
It’s also the month of my dad’s birthday.
Please consider making a donation to the ALS Assocation.
Even more importantly, please PRAY for everyone affected by the disease: in particular that they would not lose faith in the midst of the horrors of ALS. And please pray for all medical personnel who interact with ALS patients, especially that they would have great compassion for what the patients and their families are going through.
Wife, mama, homeschooler, dog-wrangler. Introvert who finds joy in good books, sunshine, and authentic conversation. Fitness enthusiast and personal trainer. Often seen with a steaming mug of tea in hand.