August 26, 2003
Dear diary, today I wiggled my toes and I'm excited, but only you may know.
It would not have been the same years ago, when nothing hurt, when almost with my bare hands I would shape my dreams into reality. The only barrier I knew then was lack of motivation. But everything changed, as you well know.
Now everything hurts and the barriers are many. This I would have not understood, and in my skepticism I probably would have laughed at anyone complaining of this pain. But the invisible jacket of pain I now too don.
My early rising of yore still holds true, however. Though, when the rest of the world puts on their clothes, I battle with my skin, bones, tendons; with my toes, legs and knees; with my hips, back and chest; with my arms, neck and head. It still takes me two hours to "get dressed", this time, in my own sheath - - while in bed. No make-up I apply, but I am glad I still can bathe; no mascara on my eyelashes either, but I thank God I can still see. My tangled falling hair gets brushed -- with very much care and pain -- once a week. My undone fingernails can wait until they break.
If I told someone "It pains me to think", I would be labeled a mental case, and if I complained about a certain smell - like someone's perfume - I would be called finicky and be forced to stand the laughter as I tried my best not to faint.
As you know, dear diary, it has been few years since the toes of my left foot did not move. The toxic injury I sustained reached the brain. My skin dried, my tendons hardened - - some of them torn - the mucus membranes are damaged to the point that I sometimes cannot cry because there are no tears. My tongue, at times, gets stuck to the palate, and at times I cannot hear.
With painful moves I have tried to stimulate the nerves of my arms, hands, legs and feet. Even when the extension of the limbs is not complete and even slow movement hurts, they still move. The problem with my toes is different.
I have trained my right foot to pick up the things that fall from my clumsy hands, but the left toes did not want to cooperate. For days and years, I would sit there and tried to move them from my brain, but the message was not referred to them.
Today my toes moved. They moved slowly, like a bear that has been hibernating, and, like the toes from the right, only in one direction. Nevertheless, I'd say, "THEY WIGGLED"!
Thank you for being there my dear friend and confidant.