It’s funny what upsets us.  Lately, I’ve noticed an increase in pain and weakness in new muscle groups.  Insertion points in my knees and shoulder…  Facial muscles (which is why I’ve been rubbing my cheeks lately)…

But the one that’s making me really sad is my abs.  Yep.  You wouldn’t have thought, would you?  I’ve always counted on my abs.  I could do crunches and sit-ups like crazy in the Navy.

And now…. they too are succumbing to the disease.  And I am not happy about that.  🙂

You’d think I’d be more concerned about my lungs, nausea, or my heart.  But this isn’t about those parts of me being attacked which are more life-threatening, but those which I will miss the most.

For you, my dear abdominal muscles:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. ~Dylan Thomas