I heard the rotor blades before the rumbling had completely stopped. ‘Oh, thank God!’ Lorris jumped up and waved her arms around madly. ‘Lorris ...top! We don’t know if their friendly or not!’ ‘Oh God Bess! What do we do? There’s nowhere up here to hide!’ ‘Stay low. Wait and see if they get close enough so we can tell. Get down low!’ We both dropped to the ground. There was nothing to hide us from their view. I figured the way the helicopter was slowly coming towards us, that they’d probably seen. I carried that diagnosis for about three years before the neurologist I was seeing took a muscle biopsy from my affected arm and determined it was not Lou Gerrig’s, but a benign virus of some nature, similar to one he had seen in India. It never progressed beyond weakness in my left hand. But for those three years I lived with it, and I was pretty fearless about living. I wasn’t an asshole about it; at least once I got through all the normal phases. 1. Grief, 2. Denial, 3. Anger, (That would be. More

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