Hugs - One Size Fits All

"You can't wrap love in a box, but you can wrap a person in a hug."
~Author Unknown

I have always heard the expression "a country mile" used to express a long distance of nothing. Having hyper stimulus-sensitive triggers of SPS, I have serious issues with "a city block."

Several days ago, I had an appointment in a busy area of the city. Timing my appointment with peak medication efficacy, I had to "only" go two blocks and cross two streets. (I hear the Jaws theme as I type.)

In my previous entry, Frogger, I equate my perception of Frogger with getting from point A to B. Well, this day involved real street crossing. Without Frogger's speed, I boinged across street #1 with my two gait aids, a hiking pole and a roll-along case. Street #2 had a very sweet lady with a walker cross the street beside me. (Comrades in arms.)

It is effortless to get caught up in my own dramas. After crossing the second street, I noticed a couple standing by a garbage can and bench. (Metro decor combo.) People briskly passed as this woman was sobbing with pain from her soul. I stopped.

I approached her with a personal understanding of being passed by while in pain. I asked, "Maam, are you alright? Is there anything I can do?" On an impulse, I pulled her close to me in an embrace and she hugged me back crying harder.

I told her I would pray for her. Unexpectedly, she introduced me to her guy, DJ, and her name was Diane. She asked for prayer right then, the three of us together. So as people continued to pass, Diane held DJ's hand as she and I held each other in a simple shared prayer.

Diane looked up to the sky and said, "Thank you, Lord, for reminding me you are there." She told me I was an angel. No, she was the blessing to me.

SPS sucks. Life is challenged. I hurt physically and emotionally. But...there are so many others dealing with their own struggles. Because of what I live, I have no excuse to be 'one who passes by.' Giving a simple hug gave me so much more in return. I froggered back to my car wrapped in a warm heart, without a 'splat.'

Copyright © 2010

Frogger

I remember when my son received his young-boy Christmas dream of an Atari. In the background, I could hear a heavenly choir sing in harmonious rapture at his enthusiasm. The Atari games! Graphics, arcade music, and sound effects are archaic compared to current technology--except for Frogger.

Pre-SPS, I would watch in rapt fascination as the little frog navigated traffic and obstacles in crossing the road and river. Energetic 'boings' accompanied his strategic hops at his frantic attempt to safely navigate traffic and aquatic dangers. A graphic splat and flattened frog were uttered oaths and another attempt with a new, but numbered, 'lives.'

Since diagnosed with SPS, I am Frogger. Getting from point A to point B, my syndrome perception is a lifelong game of Frogger--planning my moves to the annoying urgency of the arcade game theme song. Splat! Boing, boing! The death drown. My goal is making it to the safety of the bushes--picking up some power points en route--extra 'only as needed' meds?

I just wonder how many 'lives' come with the Stiff Person Syndrome arcade version of Frogger?

Copyright © 2010