I have had so many good days since my surgeries took much of my pain away. Today there is a change where fear has crept in. To say anything else would be disingenuous.

Blogging is therapy. But it is so because only if it is honest. You have been there through my strongest and times. Today my roots are bending. My limbs bouncing in a rain.

My diagnosis is almost certain. But there is a window cracked just enough for a guest to open with its glove. Lately, symptoms with initials have left stains on my cheeks. My face buried in Don's chest. Because of what they might mean.

Disease can bring fellows to bed. Leaving you wondering if it is alone.

MS has pretty much been ruled out. ALS has not been completely dismissed (also known as Lou Gherig's Disease). I have an appointment with a neurologist on Monday. Yesterday, my physical therapist came to work on my limbs and I put on quite a show for my dogs. Every effort crunched my face into a distorted mess. But I made it through the exercises with the help of his hands around my legs. But I noticed something had changed. My right leg that I thought had paused its decline, did not. And my good arm's hand felt weaker than before. My resting fingers curled into my palm instead of resting with air beneath their tips.

CRPS sometimes operates with illness of another kind. Others also brought on by trauma like mine. A hit on the head can echo for years to come. A sound deafening to the spirit on days like this. When you must listen for the whisper of an angel's voice telling you you're wrong. That all is as you knew. And the treatment course is enough.

But what if it is not? What if a passenger rides within, unannounced and silently lurking until its time has come to be revealed?

Others would not like for me to say these words, because it may be seen as thinking of the worst. But no matter what it is - if this is just the CRPS spreading - my life can never be the worst. It is magnificent and pure. So whatever form it takes, is merely a definition of its state. Not a sentence to be ignored.

Thinking of what life could be, is important to me. It prepares me for possibilities that could very well be true. But it doesn't mean I'm not scared. Or the loss of life as I knew it isn't missed. So this reflection has to be.

I wonder too about my feelings if I do have ALS. How others would react to the enormity of what could be. Yet I know what I would think. I would not want to fill my days with pity. Or anger. Or regret. I would not want friends to feel sorry for me, or treat me as though life was bending in the wind. I would hope only that they would continue to water my roots and pause at branches still budding with leaves. To be grateful for our shade. And nourish our moments with tears of joy, that are reminded life is more precious than we know.

I wonder about my children and Don. But I will stop there, as those thoughts will bury me.

This is what I think. Today. A day when limbs are weak. Until more answers are found. Under a tree. In a shade. Where for now my heart will wait.