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Hi Barb, you put a biig smile on my lips right now, just so you know. > Oh John... please, please DON'T strive for any MORE "perfection" in your use > of English! You come across as so very fluent and comfortable as you use the > language NOW... > > Should YOU reach perfection, then all the REST of us will have to go back to > school and re-learn the language just to keep up with ya! <smile> Besides, > John... perfection is kinda boring and predictable and YOU wouldn't wanna be > thought of as THAT, would ya? (John quickly shakes his head and says, "NO > WAY!") <giggle> NO WAY, indeed... :) I love you all, I'm glad to have found you. I've been very depressed these last weeks after the doc told me it might not be MS that I have. Alright, I think PD is better, but OTOH this has turned my life around quite a bit. It will take some getting used to... I went to a meeting for newly diagnosed MS patients at our local university hospital yesterday, and it gave me a bit of the feeling I get here: the feeling of a shared sorrow and a friendship in this situation of being an outsider of sorts. Our Swedish society is a fairly educated one I think, but there are still many individuals who are quite insensitive. For instance, having tremors or weak legs invariably yields scorn. "Had to much to drink, eh?" "Last night must have been too much for you, considering the way you shake. You ought to try drinking less." etc etc etc ad nauseam. It makes me feel powerless and "exposed", if you understand me? Right now I don't have the strength to laugh it off or to get angry. I just cry over it all. <sigh> I don't know, perhaps not all of you feel the sorrow that I feel right now, perhaps you have managed to gt through that, but this is the feeling I get reading you letters. A warm friendship that helps *me* get through the day. Yours, John.