What would Christopher Reeve do?
I admit it. I've been feeling very, very sorry for myself these past few days. I worked on Monday and Tuesday at an ad agency and ended up spending Wednesday in bed, then felt a little off all day Thursday, then woke with a very weird headache today (not quite a migraine, but worse than a standard headache and on the right side of my head instead the left, where my most talented headaches usually make an appearance). And as I lie here wishing I had never injured my brain, wishing to feel free of dizziness for just one day or even a few hours, wishing I were not a burden to anyone, especially Catherine, I have to ask myself: What would Christopher Reeve do?
When I think back on how he kept on with his life with cheer and energy, despite being completely paralyzed from a fall, I am staggered and humbled. I have not witnessed a more courageous and inspiring story in my life. Nothing else even comes close, really. What was his secret? To try to figure it out -- although, most likely his secret is not a secret at all, he was simply a very, very rare human being -- I'm going to buy his book Nothing Is Impossible.