Sometimes I Wish I Could Go Back to the Beginning Stages

You know what’s crazy?

Sometimes I’m not even wishing I could go all the way back to life before muscular dystrophy.

Sometimes I just wish I could go back to the beginning stages of my muscular dystrophy.

Back when I was diagnosed and my body was starting to change, but I still had so much independence.

At the time, I thought things were hard.

If only that version of Keisha knew how much I would miss her life one day.

I didn’t have to rely on PCAs to get through my everyday routine.

I could get myself ready.

I could get in my RAV4 and drive myself wherever I needed to go.

Man, I miss that feeling.

Getting in my own car.

Starting it up.

Driving wherever I wanted.

Not having to coordinate accessible transportation.

Not having to depend on somebody else to drive me.

Not having to ask, “Who’s available?”

I could just grab my keys and GO.

I don’t think I realized how much freedom there was in something as simple as that.

And I worked.

I mean, I worked.

I was on my feet, driving from retail store to retail store doing merchandising work.

Bloomingdale’s.

Macy’s.

Dick’s Sporting Goods.

And so many others.

I worked with and merchandised for major brands like Tommy Hilfiger, The North Face, JanSport, Echo, and more.

I would drive to different stores, walk inside, get on my feet and handle my business.

That was my normal.

I wasn’t sitting there thinking:

Wow, Keisha, appreciate the fact that you can drive.

Appreciate being able to walk into this store.

Appreciate being able to stand while you work.

Appreciate not needing a PCA.

Why would I?

I thought I would always be able to do those things.

That’s probably what hurts the most when I look back.

I didn’t know I was living in the days I would eventually miss.

I remember feeling good.

Working.

Driving.

Making my own money.

Going from store to store.

Being busy.

Being independent.

Being able to get up and do what needed to be done without waiting for someone else’s help.

And man…

If I could go back to those days.

Even just for a little while.

Let me get into my RAV4 again.

Let me drive myself to work.

Let me walk into Macy’s or Bloomingdale’s with my merchandising materials.

Let me complain about being tired from standing on my feet all day. 😂

Because knowing what I know now?

I would probably appreciate every second of it.

That’s the strange thing about having a progressive condition.

Sometimes you don’t just grieve the person you were before your diagnosis.

You grieve the different versions of yourself that existed during your diagnosis too.

There was pre-muscular-dystrophy Keisha.

There was newly diagnosed Keisha.

There was Keisha who struggled but could still walk.

There was Keisha who could still stand.

There was Keisha who could still drive herself to work.

There was Keisha who didn’t have to rely on PCAs.

And then there’s me today.

Every version is still me.

But sometimes I miss those earlier versions so badly.

Especially the one who could grab her car keys, get into her RAV4 and head out the door without needing anybody else’s help.

Back then, I probably just called it going to work.

Today?

I call it freedom.

And man, if I could go back to those days,even for one day, I would appreciate every single minute.