Cerebral Palsy, I think, helps me keep in mind how quickly things can change.
We came back from dinner last night. It’s warm here, spring finally showing her colours to the world. The night was a gorgeous melee of people and I came home content. But almost as soon as we got in the door, my right hand went numb.
I tried to relax and let my body ride out the spasm, but it just seemed to get worse. My entire right side, shoulder, arm and leg, felt numb. I could feel pain trying to creep in and up my leg, my feet spasming softly, almost throbbing.
“What’s wrong?” My husband asks.
“My hand,” I say. “It’s numb again.” I climb in to bed and ask him to feel my muscles, to see if they’re tight.
He pokes my shoulder for a moment before he says “No, you feel fine to me.”
It strikes me than that this is a very private disability. That on the outside, everything can appear normal, but on the inside, that is where I carry my real scars.