I have a lot of metaphors
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<br />Lately I've been saying living with Cf is like being the little engine that could, except there's no top of the hill, so we just keep going and going, "I think I can, I think I can"
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<br />Also, i sometimes refer to CF as a rusty old car. We're constantly having problems to fix and we really need to keep up the maintenance if we want to get started each morning.
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<br />Or because our bodies have to be constantly fighting CF, we are like a machine which is run too hard and is wearing down and will continue to wear down until it stops working and is unable to be repaired.
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<br />When my joints are hurting, I pretend they are all rusted so I imagine screeching sounds whenever I move.
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<br />Or when my finger joints are hurting, I pretend my hands are turning into branches and I hear creaking sounds when i open and close my fingers (I especially do this in the winter when it is cold.)
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<br />Or when i'm fatigued and my bones are in pain, I pretend that I'm slowly turning to stone because my arms and legs feel heavy and i can't move very fast.
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<br />I think of that huge stone guy on Never Ending Story. For some reason, I always remember him saying something like, "They look like such large hands, don't they? But I could not hold onto my friends" so when i'm feeling like I'm turning to stone, I think of that guy and say something like, "it looks like such a strong body/will/resolve, doesn't it? But I couldn't hold onto my health"
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<br />Finally, there's a Samurai Jack episode I like where he asks a tribe of monkeys to teach him to "jump good" the monkeys tie a HUGE boulder to his back and make him train with it day and night. At first it's really, really difficult for him, but he gets stronger and finally is able to run and jump around as if he doesn't have any burden at all. Then, when he takes the boulder off, he feels lighter than air and he can jump really, really high. (I have a video of it if you want to see it. it is pretty low quality, but here it is: <a target=_blank class=ftalternatingbarlinklarge href="http://c-mockingbird.com/Burden.wmv">http://c-mockingbird.com/Burden.wmv</a>)
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<br />Also, there's a poem I really like by Shel Silverstein called The Snowman
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<br />T'was the first day of the springtime,
<br />And the snowman stood alone
<br />As the winter snows were melting,
<br />And the pine trees seemed to groan,
<br />Ah, you poor sad smiling snowman,
<br />You'll be melting by and by."
<br />Said the snowman, "What a pity,
<br />For I'd like to see July.
<br />Yes, I'd like to see July, and please don't ask me why.
<br />But I'd like to, yes I'd like to, oh I'd like to see July.
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<br />Chirped a robin, just arriving,
<br />"Seasons come and seasons go,
<br />And the greatest ice must crumble
<br />When it's flowers' time to grow.
<br />And as one thing is beginning
<br />So another thing must die,
<br />And there's never been a snowman
<br />Who has ever seen July.
<br />No, they never see July, no matter how they try.
<br />No, they never ever, never ever, never see July.
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<br />But the snowman sniffed his carrot nose
<br />And said, "At least I'll try."
<br />And he bravely smiled his frosty smile
<br />And blinked his coal-black eye.
<br />And there he stood and faced the sun
<br />A blazin' from the sky"
<br />And I really cannot tell you
<br />If he ever saw July.
<br />Did he ever see July? You can guess as well as I
<br />If he ever, if he never, if he ever saw July.
<br />-Shel Silverstein
