The pragmatic side of me vanished and the emotional side took over. On the outside I was calm, taking the news well. "Wow, you don't say." Under the surface, I think I gulped something to the effect of "This can't be. I just spent a ton of money getting into this sport - and I've been having a blast! I've been looking forward to this for months - Take it all back and buy two iPads, and I wouldn't have half the fun!!"
I find myself caught somewhere between "Wow, I'm a the mutant I always wanted to be," and "Blast! If only I were normal I could do more of what I love" and leaning towards the latter. To make matters worse - I ask, "If this is something genetic, some sort of recessive trait, what are the odds that my little girl will have it, or develop it?"
Whoa there big boy, step back. I'll admit there's a fatalist tendency there I need to keep in check. Overall I'm an optimist, looking at the bright side, glass half full. But this is a doozy. There's a feeling of defeat, of powerlessness.
Talking to Joanna about this, who is no stranger to back issues (see part 1), we faced the harsh reality that we may indeed pass things on to our daughter, and that we might face further limitations as we age. But we also discussed the fact that chiropractic care has only been around for a hundred years, and prior to this advancement people still walked the earth with various difficulties and physical struggles. And we also talked about the 'degree' of our own difficulties.
Think of the 'more unfortunate' folks you know. The world is full of people who have "real" issues: cancers, cerebral palsy, victims of polio, malaria, and other rare and destructive diseases. These are the faces we see on Sunday morning infomercials in Africa, and many times, on Sunday mornings in church. I won't go too deeply into his story, but it turns out my pastor is one of those people - a person I place in the 'more unfortunate' category…
To Be Continued...
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