Jana’s Sketchbook No. 11
I worry about how long I will have use of my legs or hands, whether today is the day I will have a stroke or heart attack; whatever.
You worry about what to wear to your next big meeting, when you can get your new car, how you will break-up with your boyfriend; whatever.
The emotions are the same.
So, why do I, disabled and sick, try so hard to get you to understand what I am going through, or to treat you as though your life is less important?
Forgive me for doing that.
Just a thought…