Sometimes when we're in the car, my son will posit his theory about my limp (which is how he refers to it, despite our explaining that the same problem impairs my tongue). He thinks it might be related to the fact that I had inward-pointing feet as a baby which were straightened by casts and braces. I've explained that they fixed the feet but not so much the knees (which still bend in a tad when I walk). He thinks that if they had straightened the knees better, I wouldn't limp now. He also wonders if my not eating chocolate has something to do with it. This is how the kids label my lactose intolerance. He said that if my limp goes away, I might also find myself able to eat chocolate. I was poised for your blog-reading amusement for him to say that maybe if I tried eating chocolate more, my limp might go away. But alas, he didn't.
A few days later, however, there was more evidence that he's integrating and accepting my disability, rather than being frightened of it. My lovely wife mentioned that I was eating a dinner more slowly than everyone. I think she meant because I was congested. And he said, "Yeah, because of his tongue." We'd previously talked about the fact that I talk more slowly due to the same nerve signal propagation problem that impairs my legs. This was not what she was referring to, but it was good that he completed the thought on his on, to explain my slow eating that night. I normally eat slowly anyway, did so even before ALS, and it has slowed me down.
The main thing is not to have a big secret that the kids have to tiptoe around.
This is where my readers were coming from yesterday. My first hit ever from New Guinea is shown:
Left grip is 29 pounds (26, 22, 26), right grip is 79 pounds (79, 65, 75), left leg balance is 7.56 seconds, and inhale volume is 4240 mL.