Snapping Out of it

Today I get in my wheelchair and out of my coffin and/or bed -- or whatever sounds right for the moment. Constant bed rest is a big red-flag for anyone with DMD, so I need to to get out of my recent depression and up and moving. I've known other guys who have passed away, because either they didn't take care of themselves, or they just simply gave up -- I'm not that guy.

For me it's not a question of if, but how.

I'm not some power-speaker or advocate for "Jerry's Kids". On the contrary; I'm just an American man trying to live the best life I can, and I think Jerry Lewis is an insensitive ignoramus. (Mr. Lewis said that if people with muscular dystrophy didn't want to be pitied, they should stay inside.)

To me it was always a question of how I would have sex, for instance, not if I would. So when I got lucky for the first time, all I had to do was figure out the mechanics with my partner, of how the whole thing was going to work, and so began a beautiful part of my life. I find that pleasuring a woman orally is my strong suit, and I imagine the same goes for many disabled guys that can't get on top...nothing wrong with using your...um tongue, right?! You do a good job down there and she'll be more than happy to ride up top. With the other partner being able-bodied, all one has to do is figure out the right positions and maneuvers, and sex becomes very enjoyable for both parties.

Life with Duchenne is a challenge but it's very, very far from impossible.

I had thought several times that I'd found the one; sometimes for a good reason and sometimes out of a hopeless, romantic blindness. But the point is not that I didn't find my soul-mate, but that I actually bothered to look in the first place.