Another Sappy Gratitude Post

I am thankful for my disease.

OK, there, I said it. I can claim membership in the club now.

True, I don't have a terminal illness. I can thank my lucky stars that I don't have the physical pain of cancer or chemo, nor the mental anguish of wondering when I'll die. I'm healthy (knock on wood), in good shape, and planning to live a long and fruitful life, god/fate/luck willing.

I also don't have a contagious disease. Thankfully, I don't have to worry about how people might react, or whether they're fully informed enough to be willing to shake my hand, hug, or kiss me. Even with all the education out there, people with HIV and AIDS are often treated as modern-day lepers. (From what I know of history, a leper used to be a lot like a Bush voter in Brooklyn. Everybody just keeps their distance, and so does the leper.) No question, my day doesn't require nearly as much bravery as anyone with a deadly communicable disease.

And then there's the fact that I'm not even completely blind. Much as I like to refer to myself as "the blind guy," it's only a small patch. Fully blind people put up with way more discrimination than I do and have barely any of the access to, well, anything. I'm thankful for the vision I have, and while I'd like to think I could still make a full life for myself without any vision,it's still pretty damn cool to have most of mine.

I am also thankful for the effect Stargardt's disease has had on me. It has forced me to be a more social person, to be kinder to people around me, and to forge a unique niche for myself everywhere I go. I like that I can't fit neatly into a pre-made box. I like that I get to constantly surprise people with what I can do. And I like that my disease is harder to spell than my last name.

I am not prone to making statements such as, "This disease has affected my life for the better." First off, it's probably not true -- 20/20 vision comes in handy once in a while -- and second, there's no way to know. I certainly would welcome a cure, if it arrived at my front door, pre-tested and ready to go. But, hey, I can't really complain. I have a job (several, in fact) and a decent life with great friends. Who wouldn't be thankful for that?

What's that you say? Your cousin Dan wouldn't be thankful for that? Well, he can go eat somebody else's turkey, because my leftovers are for ME, mister. Stupid Dan.