I have had my fibromyalgia diagnosis more years of my life than the years I lived before it. It has been over eighteen years since that diagnosis and at first I continued to do whatever I could— continuing as a competitive dancer, as an opera singer and dancer in college, completing multiple majors and going on to earn one masters degree and begin another before being ordained in the Lutheran Church. However, with the continued progression of my disease and the added diagnosis of various other illnesses and chronic conditions, I have now come to the point of disability.
Once the pastor who loved to lift others from their dark times and rejoice with them in the joyous ones, I now consider it a *good* day if I manage to make it out of bed for more than three hours.
Crest fallen that I could not join the march myself, I wrote a poem and shared it with friends online. Thanks to the internet, from far off in Germany, a long time friend let me know about this virtual march— and made me cry in all the RIGHT ways! Here is the poem I had posted:
If you plan to march this week
Take me with you when you do.
For marching is a privilege
Few realize this is true.
When illness overcomes your life,
And pain tears you down each day,
Marching is not possible–
Someone else must go the way.
Please take me with you when you go,
And all those just like me.
Take our names upon your heart,
Our fears upon your sleeves.
And when you may feel tired,
Or the path has gone too long,
Remember the pain we face each day.
Remember you are strong.
Go and march but don’t forget:
Each step you take,
The Disabled march… thru you.
Disability March 