A Keen Ear. An Accommodating Spirit.

     Little scares me.
     Fearless I am not.  Fear I do.
     Osteoarthritis.  Puffy fingers. Inflamed tissues.
     Some have knobby knees.  I have knobby knuckles.
     I fear not the appearance.  Such is vanity--pure vanity.
     I fear the knobby knuckles--its killing paralysis.
     I fear loss.  I fear loss of my voice--loss of my voice through my left hand.  I fear not the loss of my right hand--the loss of my right hand as the instrument of my voice.  My right hand has never had such muscle power.
     My osteoarthritis affects my left hand, my left hip, and my right ankle.  God only knows as to its selectivity within my body.
     I do not ask--I have never asked--"Why me?"  I abhor that question.  What possible answer could serve anyone or any good end.
     Rather, I ask, "What lesson am I to be learning." 
     I take this as no punishment for any action I have taken.  Some, extreme in their thinking, take that tack.  I never have.  I never will.
     Rather, I ask, "What preparation am I being called to make?"
     A lifetime ago my answer to a call seems.  Just one year ago, I was counselled to look ahead,
     "Think of your needs beyond the next year--beyond the next five years.  I advise you to get a power wheelchair with a joystick on your left armrest.  I advise you to get a head rim.  At the point when you need it, a head rim will control the movement of your chair when  you cannot."
     I do not torture myself--I cannot--with the prospect of using the head rim.  Yet, I know that I have learned that lesson--made that preparation.
     Osteoarthritis.  My left hip?  A simple four-legged cane.  Common sense born of experience--carry no heavy packages, such as groceries, any distance.  A fairly easy solution.  For vanity, two canes.  One is multiple shades of dark blue.  The other is colored in shades of brown.  It looks like wood.  One must be color-coordinated, of course.  Living alone, one must be prepared.  Though not needed today, I need to have the tools at hand--the tools for as independent a life as is possible.
     Osteoarthritis.  My right ankle.  Zoomer, my power wheelchair, is my antidote.  Should she not be enough, I have been told that it is a matter of time--ten years perhaps--that I might need ankle surgery, an ankle replacement, perhaps.
     Osteoarthritis.  I do my best not to torture myself with eventualities.  Osteoarthritis is not a condition of steadiness or control.  Osteoarthritis is an amoeba, a chameleon.  Some days, people may wonder, "I don't understand.  I saw her in her wheelchair yesterday, now today she is walking just fine."  I wonder too.
     Osteoarthritis.  A snake, who lurks in the bushes, waiting to catch me unawares.
     Osteoarthritis.  Exercise.  Not a physical cure.  But a wellspring of mental, and emotional energy.  Exercise.  A keeping at bay of inflammation's paralysis.
     Osteoarthritis.  My right ankle.  My left hand.  My left hip.  My color-coordinated canes.  Exercise.  Osteoarthritis.
     Osteoarthritis.  A keen ear.  An accommodating spirit.  Osteoarthritis.

Calculation of an Ankle...Solving for X...

     Algebra was never my forte.  Yet, now I understand applied algebra, or I think I do.  Applied algebra, or is it Christian algebra.  You tell me.
     Walking from the bus to church--or at least to an intersection at which someone from church welcomes me into their car--is a very prayerful time.  Today came "the Calculation of an Ankle and a Hip--my Ankle, and My Hip."
     My memory has faded.  I do believe that algebra is adding several factors to solve for X.  The young Patty did not understand.  Humor this nearly 52-year-old woman, as she solves for X.
     Factors.
     Oxford Dictionaries defines factors as "expression by which another is exactly divisible."
     Variables.
     Oxford Dictionaries defines variable as "a quantity that during calculation is assumed to vary or be capable of varying."  I am not satisfied with any definition that uses another form of itself to define itself.  Vary is a verb, whereas variable is a noun.  Therefore, let us define the verb.  Vary is defined as, "differ in size, amount, degree, or nature from something else of the same general class."
     My eyes are starting to glaze over now.  Let me offer just one more definition to solve for X.
     Constants.  Oxford defines constants as, "noun.  a situation or state of affairs that does not change."  The example offered is ironic--truly ironic.  "the condition of struggle remained a constant."
     Definitions are established.  Let us proceed.
     A multitude of factors makes solving for X complex.  However, it is essential.
     X=Living inspired by, and insightful from, the lessons my ankle--my osteoarthritis--my cerebral palsy, and my epilepsy have taught, and continue to teach me.
    X=Sharing the inspirations, the insights my disabilities--my life conditions have given me; advocating for the full living of each of our individual life conditions.
     Constants.
     Brain damage.  Cerebral palsy.  Osteoarthritis.  Intentional tremors.  Epilepsy.      
     Factors.
     Inner calm.  Humor.  Optimism.  Keen listening.
     Variables.
     Humidity.  Distance traveled on my ankle.  Weight borne on my left hip, and my right ankle.  Do I listen to my body--to her instructions regarding my pace, and my activity?
     This morning I witnessed the baptisms of three babies.  The priest affirmed truth.  The babies are entering a world far more difficult than those of us, who are older.
   "There are no easy answers."
     The priest asked the community, whether we were willing to offer support to the parents in raising their newly baptized children.  His request was not hollow.  Clear was how much we are called to share the joys and the sorrows with other people we meet--other people with whom we are in communion.  I try not to feel discouragement.  Yet, our unwillingness to share both our joys and our sorrows, and our strengths, and our vulnerabilities is a sad commentary on our commitment to our lives.
     Why is it so hard to solve for X?  What are our joys?  What are our sorrows?   Are we inspired in our lives?  By what?  By whom?  Are we mindful of any insights in our day?  What are they?  Do we share them?
     Why is self-disclosure so difficult?  What is our purpose, if we are not to disclose our selves?
     Why is it so difficult to solve for  X?