I’m sure at this point when people read this on my blog they are going to hate me. How in the world can I even begin to complain or have a complaint? I’m on the trip of a lifetime, getting the opportunity of a lifetime – to see and experience events few non-celebrity people get to do. I’m traveling with a quadrapalegic who would probably love to feel pain in his legs, to feel anything in his legs….. Yet, it’s saturday morning, and I have another confession to make……..
I just don’t know how much more my arms and legs can lift. They are so tired, they’re turning into noodles. I haven’t lifted anything over 15 pounds since before December 2009, so this week has felt like I’m training for the Ironman Competition. And even though I am clearly struggling, Drew seems to have the utmost patience with me when I screw things up.
I have so much respect for him and his family right now. Really gives me a new appreciation of what my parents have dealt with throughout all my medical mishaps. As soon as I want to complain I just look over at Drew, and my mind cannot begin to understand or comprehend what life is like for him. I hate confessions. I hate that I even think these thoughts of weakness.