I don't know why, but looking at the empty box here just makes me want to cry. I haven't anything particular I want to say, and nothing I am aware of that I need to cry over - except how hard it is for me to write, and why here? why now?

Losing the proper use of my left and dominant hand has really taken the legs out from under me. Figuratively, of course. For so many years me hands were something I could rely on - I couldn't always walk, sit up even, but I could always type, knit, use my fingers. Now, not so much. What it takes just to type as much as I have isn't something I can't explain. The fingers don't work, so I need to use them in a different way. It's not that I *can't* type, so much as that for most of my life I've been a touch typist, and now I have to slow down, watch the fingers. I can't feel if I am typing the correct letters, so I keep going back to replace mistakes, some of which don't even make any sense. It is making something hard when I already have too much hard in my life.

I am walking better and have no problem driving with the joystick now. Somehow that doesn't make up for losing my one remaining method of easy communication with most of the people I've stayed in touch with.

My family is wonderful, and most of them are here. Any friends who don't want to wait or put up with my poor communication aren't going to break my heart. But it us just so HARD!

Anyway, D3 is here, so I need to deal with real world problems like dressing and brushing my teeth. So many things I can't do for myself or by myself anymore. Sometimes it seems that death is taking to long, it should just happen all at once and quickly, none of this nickel-and-dime stuff. Just take it all and have done with it. I don't really want to die, I am not suicidal, just tired of losing things already.

That is a really down note to end on, and D3 is going to eat lunch before helping me w/all that stuff, but I can't think of anything else, and this has been a huge effort. So, there it is. I'm really not as depressed as I sound. Just grieving, I guess. Again.