Halloween Is A Way Of Life

"A keen sense of humor helps us to overlook the unbecoming, understand the unconventional, tolerate the unpleasant, overcome the unexpected, and outlast the unbearable."
~Billy Graham~

Becoming disabled is starring in my own personal "A Nightmare On Elm Street," except there is not even a waking reprieve. My Freddy Krueger is my diagnosis - Stiff Person Syndrome.

Stiff Person Syndrome, SPS, is a bizarre neurological disorder, rivaling Freddy's antics with syndrome symptoms. My syndrome possessed body will twist, writhe, spasm, or fall at the slightest 'trigger' whim.

Humor is a vital coping mechanism for me. I love Halloween, providing fertile, unhallowed ground for my irreverent gallows humor.

From my website:

Halloween Greeting 2009

You'll find me at the IV pole dance contest, cheered on by Harvey Wallbanger!

Copyright © 2009

Pollyanna and the Grinch

"Oh, yes, the game was to just find something about everything to be glad about -- not matter what twas," rejoined Pollyanna earnestly. "And we began right then -- on the crutches.""





The Grinch: "Those Whos are hard to frazzle, Max. But, we did our worst, and that's all that matters."



Hayley Mills as Pollyanna - the rainbows and sunshine little girl who rambled optimism, ad nauseum, to everyone until the glad game became a test with her crippling fall from a tree.

Jim Carrey breathed life into Dr. Seuss's animated Grinch; the bitter loner who looked down on the happiness of others with loathing. Within the beating confines of his small heart, he plotted enforcing his misery on others.

I am disabled with a neurological disorder. Maintaining a sunny attitude of hope and optimism brighten disability's gloom for me. I also have my occasional cloudy days, feeling alone, envious, and tears will fall. Pollyanna and the Grinch are personified emotions, conflicting attitudes in my mind.

I encounter flesh and blood Pollyannas and Grinches. Pollyannas in overdrive. Strewing imaginary rose petals in their wake, saccharin words drip with artificial cheer as they sanctimoniously play the 'glad game' with me from the clueless vantage of not living my disabled reality.

Oh the Grinches. I meet many in the disabled community. Bitterness shrinks their hearts so there is only room for misery. Spread their misery. Disable the happiness of others through blame, negativity, and self-pity.

Pollyanna's glad game, "And we began right then -- on the crutches." On the crutches, my Stiff Person Syndrome diagnosis. Glad isn't a game for me, but a daily attitude choice within the reality of my disability...see life's blessings and be happy.

I have my occasional Grinch moments, but like the Whos, I try to be "hard to frazzle." In spite of disability, I will not allow Grinch mindset steal my happiness in living. I do my best and that is all that matters.

Copyright © 2009

7 Secrets to Happiness When You Live with Illness

7 Secrets to Happiness When You Live with Illness

Gator & Boy in Wheelchair

I love Tim Tebow, the University of Florida's quarterback, not because I am a football fan, but because of what he stands for. A young man with deep spiritual convictions, Tim lives what he believes. Athletically gifted, he is a hero to college football enthusiasts...especially to Boomer, a seven-year-old boy with cerebral palsy. The following story touched my heart.

Huge Gator fan gets experience of a lifetime as he meets his hero

"True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost." ~Arthur Ashe~

I think I have just become a Gator fan. Boomer's story recruited me.

Apocalypse - Ice Cream

"Without ice cream, there would be darkness and chaos."
~Don Kardong~

I was a child during the 60's. Television images imprinted my young mind with Walter Cronkite's nightly narratives. Political dissension, assassinations, racial riots, and the violent war images from a geographically-obscure Viet Nam. My childhood fascination was for the hippies...free love, the Woodstock coverage, flowers, and talk of peace. Impending Apocalypse, according to our preacher.

With regular frequency, my dad would want an ice cream cone and a car ride. My brothers and I piled into the back as we headed to Dairy Queen. Life was simple, black or white. Chocolate or vanilla? I chose vanilla.

The ritual never changed. Driving in random abandon, rippling fields stretched out for miles as we silently licked the cold sweetness in familial companionship, enjoying the scenery.

Apocalypse came. A lifetime sentence of a disabling diagnosis destroyed the life I had. Though not simple, it was black or white, exist or live. I chose to live.

Forty-plus years later, nightly news still drones on. Political dissension, racial issues, and more violent war images from another obscure country. The naked, mud-covered Woodstock hippies are now vocal opponents against homosexuality. We still talk about peace.

Impending Apocalypse? Right now, someone is devastated, receiving life-altering news, disabled or terminal.

With regular frequency, I enjoy eating out. Sharing desert with a friend, vanilla ice cream on a hot fudge brownie, we enjoy companionship. As flavors meld on my tongue, I am reminded of the sweet things in life, the blessings...the cherries on top.

"My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy the ice cream while it's on your plate." ~Thornton Wilder~

Copyright © 2009