"Courage"
by Susan Guziejka
(c) January, 1999
Is it courage that enables me to go on with physical therapy, even though it hurts?
Is it courage that allows me to ask for help?
Is it courage that allowed me to have the cry I've never had, since I was diagnosed in 1989? There was a lot to let out.
Is it courage, or stubbornness, that keeps me walking, knowing that I've fallen seven times in as many days?
Is it courage to accept the help of a health aid to assist with showering? I guess I should be less modest. What's more to see? :-) The last time I showered alone, John wheeled me out and sat me on the couch. He had to lift my legs for me and I was off for a four-hour sleep.
Is it courage, or thinking, that found the way
to change the kitty pan, while in a wheelchair? My little friends shouldn't suffer because I'm having a momentary setback. Excuse me...I just received the "huff". That means that clean water is due. "Purr". I'm forgiven because all are fed, watered and duly scratched.
I ask these questions because, lately, I've been told that I'm so brave. I suppose that in this thing called "courage", which is a human emotion, can also be called getting on with life. My cry, this morning, not only cleansed my soul but I think also my family's.
Courage? Hmmmmmm
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