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Okay.  As promised, I'm addressing that big bad elephant in the room. 

DO I EVER HAVE DAYS WHEN YOU FEEL SORRY FOR YOURSELF?

THEN...

I remember being in physical therapy - and the first "assessment" - I remember being pricked with sharp pins in my legs. I watched as the doctor inserted the sharp pin into my leg, however as i looked on, I felt nothing. My legs were as numb as my emotions. I outright refused to accept what was happening to me. To me! What have I done to deserve this? Well, I rationalized, I made the choice, I paid the price. Suddenly, i felt my world crumbing all around me. "Will I ever be 'normal' again?" I was panicked. But not one living soul was the wiser to my crafty ability to conceal the pain - the Fear -that was stewing inside of me.

And to add insult to injury, following the "pin-prick" test, they measured me for my new wheelchair. Again, I grew distressed and this time, angry... which in my mind, is just another form that Fear takes on. "Why did they think I needed my own chair? Obviously, they don't understand who they were dealing with. This is just temporary" I thought. But somewhere, submerged in my subconscious, I knew. They knew. This isn't just "temporary."

Everywhere I looked were signs of deep-rooted change. My legs were thinning. My ass, once solid as a rock, was beginning to lose its form. These images of the ever-changing landscape of my body raced through my mind - the things so central to my being...my identity. I was literally coming apart and there was nothing in the world I could do to stop it.

The unbearable was quickly becoming the new normal.