I Would Imagine That It's The Way You Look At It.

    here is a link to the audio version, in case you :would rather listen to this blog: http://youtu.be/W1SnjbA2NQk

    When I was a kid I spent a lot of time in a world of imagination. In my mind's eye, the imagined path was so real that I would have to alter my course so as to avoid a potential hazard. As in the case of when I would fly a futuristic spacecraft and have to dodge large asteroids (arms outstretched, while running, and making impressively realistic rocket-ship sounds).

     Or at other times, I would find myself safely standing upon of a large rock outcrop in a cave that I had been currently exploring. I would climb, crawl, and shuffle my way into a big underground room, only to discover that between myself and the next passage that I needed to explore lay a massive, (at least ten foot-wide), pool of molten lava.

     But this was no ordinary blazing-hot puddle of liquid fire that would mean a sudden, and painfully scorching death. No, this particular lava pool was also teeming and swirling with girl germs, and the only chance that I had, as a fearless four-year-old explorer, to gain safe access to the other side was to jump from one rock plateau to another. Although I was faced with the fiery liquid, and now this new bio-hazard, I never lost heart. I knew what challenge awaited me, and I knew what needed to be done.

     Never once did I question the seemingly simple things, like why three-thousand degree molten rock would melt everything else that it touched, but not seem to have any significant impact on other rocks. All I knew was that I could leap from one of those big rocks to the other and they would keep me safe.

     Of course, the rocks that I was leaping on were our living room furniture, and the important role of molten lava was being played by the living room floor, which was covered by a very 1970's-style orange shag rug. The orange colored carpet was a nice touch that really helped to sell the illusion in my mind, and to this day I have to wonder if the main factor behind my parent's decision to buy a carpet that resembled a bed of blazing fury, was just to aid me in my imagination-world. Probably not, but somehow it really helped to sell the fantasy.

     I don't really play this game much anymore, ( and of course I am using the term "really" very loosely) ,but if and when I do, it's a Ataxia-modified version, in which as such, I don't so much as leap from rock to rock anymore, but rather kind of just stand in one place with my walker and scream for help.

The carpet is brown now, so I have to pretend it's some kind of toxic-sludge/quicksand type of thing.

    Through the growing up years my imagination served me well, and helped me to end the boredom while engaging in the chores that were assigned to me by my parents. Raking the leaves in the fall, or the grass in the summer, became instead a call to gather in, and bring together all the leaves or blades of grass that where scattered throughout the kingdom of the front yard, or the distant villages of the sides and backyard.

     These gatherings would all come together in a centralized place to form several piles, or as I liked to think of them, several large armies. I would then walk from pile to pile with a transport vehicle, (wheelbarrow), and hall them all off to one big pile, (training camp). I was also called on to perform household chores, and sometimes when I would vacuum the house for my mom, I would imagine that there were little people living in the carpet, and that they were trying not to get entrapped by the large suction storm that had suddenly, and without warning, descended upon them.

    School was also a very fertile place for my imagination. I remember thinking, while I studied a world map in grade school, that if I would place my finger on my exact location, a rather large, and somewhat pudgy finger would descend out of the clouds to squish me. I also loved to read when I was growing up, but I would very often find that it was hard for me to read my school books.

    To get through them, and learn the things that I needed to know, occasionally I would fancy myself to be a secret agent. As such, I was in desperate need of finding a very important hidden code that was dispersed throughout a chapter that was my assigned reading for the week, and I would actually have to read all of the pages word-for-word to find what the secret was. If it turned out that I just so happened to absorb the other information that was in the chapter, while in pursuit of a code that would save all of mankind and make me a hero, I would consider this to be a perk of the job, one that could only serve to make me a more well-rounded agent.

    How does a vivid imagination currently work in my life, as pertaining to my Ataxia? Wow, that is a very astute question, and I thank you so much for asking it. I will attempt to answer.

    Lately I have begun to envision that there is a highly contagious, and rampant neurological disease spreading around the globe that has been tagged as the Upright-Bug. Symptoms manifested by the infected are perfect balance, clear speech, and the ability to eat without spilling or choking. There are several different manifestations, and groups, that are resistant to the virus, and these people have come to be known as handicapped, or uniquely gifted.
 
   One of these groups, or communities, has a resistance that has come to be known as Spinocerebellar Ataxia. Very little is known about these peoples' highly impressive ability to fight off the Upright-Bug, accept for an MRI that is undergone by people within this group which is known to show a significantly smaller Cerebellum. But don't let that influence you, because these people also show a higher brain function and intelligence  (I couldn't help but throw that one in there).

    The general population that is affected by this devastating Upright-Bug have lately become jealous of the unique people, and in an attempt to selfishly identify with this group, a few of the affected have begun to park their cars in spaces that are clearly marked for the handicapped. Some of the affected have also discovered that it is possible to achieve a temporary handicapped lifestyle through the consumption of alcohol, but always seem to sink lower into a jealous despair when they sober-up and realize all over again that their handicap was only for a fleeting moment.

     In fact, in an effort to cheapen the purely handicapped lifestyle, and make themselves feel equal, the affected have begun to accuse those that are legitimately unique, and resistant to the devastating Upright-Bug, of drinking and only pretending to be unaffected on a permanent basis.

Here I am, enjoying another beautiful day that has been unspoiled by the Upright-Bug.

So, do you see....It's really just the way that you choose to look at it. Don't let yourself be defined by someone else's misinterpretation of your unique handicap. Don't imagine yourself as less-then, but envision greater things. And....at least we can say that we don't have the Upright-Bug.