Orange Legs

My apologies to my cadre of readers for my absence.  Cadre?  That sounds like a lot of readers.  I've been angry.  So angry that everything I typed with these fingers was so toxic I could never blog the words.  Truth be told I was duck angry.

Duck angry?  Yup, duck angry.  Have you ever listened to a duck?  Their quacking has the tone of the angry ninety year old neighbor yelling at the neighborhood kids to "stay off his damn grass."  The tenor of a bull's glare when you've trespassed into his field.  They sound like they are saying a gravelly "fricken fucken shit fricken fricken fucken shit" and you know why?  They have orange legs for God's sake.  That's enough to piss anyone off.

Obviously the ducks pissed someone off up above.  Who knows how they pissed off one of those lofty deities but orange legs are definite proof of the duck's errant ways.  Perhaps they shunned the God of Orange in some original way.  Who knows?  But piss someone off they did and blam...orange legs. 

As you know I have a fairly major affliction..  One would think that would fill anyone's plate to overflowing.  Ask anyone of us in this position and we'll smile and say something like,  "yeah that sucks doesn't it?"  Rest assured it is a full full plate for those of us with the disease and our loved ones who also have to live with the disease.

So imagine my anger as I left my neurosurgeon's office the day after my real birthday.  Why thirty days after successful research study results did I have no feeling in my right leg and a neurosurgeon telling me it could be a form of MS.  Wait damn it say again?  

"Bad luck" he said, "especially everything you've been through.

The unfortunate thing is they only give you one plate when you start out on this journey and my plate was just about full.  Angry.  More angry then I've ever been including my anger about my cancer.  Boy, one would think I'd have learned a lesson from Mr. Orange Legs.  Apparently not.


So here's the deal Mister Up Above That I Pissed Off.  I'll make you a deal.  I'll take back all the words I screamed at you from the emergency lane on Sylvan Hill.  You take away the numbness in my legs and we'll call it even.  Hell, I'll even sweeten the pot.  I'm willing to wake up tomorrow morning with orange legs.  Deal?