Twice Again

Splish Splash

Why'd my family decide to go to the pool today? More importantly, why'd they decide to drag me along with them?

My little sister, who hasn't a clue what's going on, tries to splash me.

Splish splash.

She's trying. I get it, she's trying.

She doesn't understand why her older sister won't play with her. She doesn't get that I'm messed up. And, honestly, I don't always get it either.

So I guess all I can do is sit here in my wheelchair. Sit here in the shade and watch as everybody else splashes in the pool.

Splish splash.

Somebody dives into the pool.

I used to be great at swimming, actually. It was almost like I was made for the water. I swam competitively. I loved it.

That was the first thing ALS took away from me. Everybody became afraid. They didn't want me accidentally drowning.

Little do they know, I'm drowning anyway. That's how we die. Our diaphragms stop working.

What I'd give to be able to swim again. Even just once again.

Splish splash.

Children jumping into their parents arms. Mothers and fathers teaching their little ones to swim.

I was supposed to be down there. In the water. Kicking, pushing, swimming.

I am a sea animal, cursed by my physical being, bound to the land. Stuck. Helpless.

I wish they hadn't been so afraid.

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I am in the water. I open my eyes. I see bubbles. Movement. People.

I look down at my hands and feet. I kick.

I can swim!

Suddenly, I'm soaring. I'm back where I belong!

I find myself on the starting block. The start signal goes off. I dive.

I'm deep in the water, I'm soaring through. I can take breaths!

I touch the end of the pool and flip around. I'm leading the group, but it's a close race.

I'm getting closer and closer and closer to the end. I'm pulling ahead! I can do this!

Wait, something hurts. A lot.

I'm a swimmer. I know how to swim. Why am I drowning?

Surface. Surface. I know how to swim. I know how to breathe.

Why is it so hard to breathe? I need to win!

I'm awake now, no thanks to my breathing attack. Somebody had to come in and give me my medication.

I hate you, ALS.

I miss swimming.