Tuesday, April 26, 2011

To March into Hell for a Heavenly Cause

 
Periodically, even the staunchest CFS activist wonders "why am I beating my head against the wall?"  It would be so easy to just lay down the sword and go back to bed where we belong.
 
Then you talk to another activist – Tom Hennessy estimates he's gotten over 25,000 letters, e-mails and faxes from patients at their wits' end, Pat Fero tells heartbreaking stories of people who call and cry because they have nowhere else to turn, I open my own e-mail and there are pleas from people who need words of comfort and understanding from someone who believes them that they are really and truly sick.  And you remember why you're doing it.
 
Because someone has to do it.
 
Because some of us, with four Fire Signs and some Gemini glibness and a dose of Libra sense of justice, are better suited to the job than the quieter patients.
 
My late bestest friend in the universe, a shy Southern belle, kept asking wasn't I scared?  Number one, I don't scare easily.  Number two, what can anyone do to me that the disease hasn't done already?  It's stolen my career, my self-image, my financial security, my body, and, at times, my brain.  A jail cell is 125% larger than the bed I was effectively confined to for a couple of years, during which I did my time in solitary confinement.  Torture?  Bring it on; can't be any worse than 24/7 level 10-of-10 pain that I had for months.  Psychological abuse?  You mean worse than years of people calling me lazy and crazy and ordering me to stop faking and go back to work?
 
Noblesse oblige, I have a duty to the less-able amongst us to fight for us all.  It's simply the right thing to do.
 
To dream the impossible dream ...
To fight the unbeatable foe ...
To bear with unbearable sorrow ...
To run where the brave dare not go ...
To right the unrightable wrong ...
To love pure and chaste from afar ...
To try when your arms are too weary ...
To reach the unreachable star ...
 
This is my quest, to follow that star ...
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far ...
To fight for the right, without question or pause ...
To be willing to march into Hell, for a Heavenly cause ...
 
And I know if I'll only be true, to this glorious quest,
That my heart will lie will lie peaceful and calm,
when I'm laid to my rest ...
And the world will be better for this:
That one man, scorned and covered with scars,
Still strove, with his last ounce of courage,
To reach the unreachable star ...

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