I am not Moebius
I remember that day, a defining day, a lasting moment that began from my walk to the Nelson Fitness Center. I remember working every fiber of muscle, curling 40 pounds up and down and up and down. I remember struggling to pull my entire body, but my chin had to go above the bar, 5, then 10, then 20, then 40. I have never felt better. My experiments were going well, my relationships were strong, and my mind was in a place of serenity. I felt refreshed and overcome with confidence. I walked tall and every step I took that day from Nelson was with intention, determination, and purpose. Little did I know what was yet to come. As I continued to walk home feeling the best I have felt, I reached the corner of my house on East Street. “I made it!” Then suddenly it happened, I took one large step forward, then heard a “crack!” My prosthetic broke. The momentum of my body immediately sent forward, my head driving into the concrete. Instinctively, I put my elbows out and along with my knees managed to break my fall. “This... this is impossible.”I felt that the world was at a standstill for a moment, as I lay face down, gazing at my broken glasses, on the dark sidewalk. My prosthetic shattered completely. You see, this sound, this “crack!” was not unfamiliar to me. I have had heard it many times during my life, but never during a day like this. I was down yet again but I had to get up. I brought my knees to my elbows and balanced all my weight on the right side of my body, as my left prosthetic dragged along. I remember each step I had to take that day. I took 1 step, then 5 steps, then I paused to check on my left prosthetic. Then 10 steps, then 20 steps, then 50 steps. I reached my house. I was born with a rare neurological disorder called Moebius syndrome and though I have this syndrome, I am not Moebius. I am limitless. What's your excuse?
