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I don’t think of myself as this. The idea that I am at all incapacitated is not believable to me. Sure, I struggle…but I’m not disabled.

But wait…

The definition of disabled is this: “having a physical or mental condition that limits movements, senses, or activities.”

Unfortunately, that is me.

I am physically altered from my disease. Not in obvious ways. You might not see it but the limitations are there…lurking. They are subtle to the casual observer, but they do limit my activity and reality dictates that my disease has changed me as I quietly gasp for air and humbly struggle to walk.

I am disabled.

Maybe not desperately so. Maybe not noticeably so to you. Maybe not in traditional ways. Maybe not in expected ways. Maybe not in predictable ways but make no mistake…

I am disabled.

My lifestyle has become limited by my disease. My career has come to an end. My energy is zapped. My strength is diminished. My brain is slow.

I am not the same.

Disabled is a sobering word.

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