I never imagined that at this point in my life I would be a professional wrestler, but here I am, sans tight shorts and knee high boots.
What are you rambling on about now TJ&O? You are not a wrestler!
Oh really? Well let me splain.
On the day I was diagnosed with ALS, I grappled with that knowledge, “wrestling” with the concept, “I have ALS”. Here’s the big realization one quickly comes to…there is no tagging out! Yes there may be a team in your corner, but there is no tagging out. It’s simply you and your opponent, El Enigma, aka The Warden, aka The ALS’er, who’s record is unmatched-undefeated.
Regular re-matches take place in the Arena known as “The Clinic”. You try a variety of regimens to give you an edge over your nemesis, but victory eludes you. Your body paying the price for this ongoing duel, every skirmish taking a piece of you.
The turnbuckle is at your back and you’re facing the opponent as he is charging towards you. You stand your ground, knowing the impact is imminent, no time or energy to sidestep. You take the bone rattling blow, fall face forward trying to catch your breath.
“Just let me lay here for a moment” you say in a whisper to yourself.
El Enigma, pounces once again, flips you like a rag doll, pins your shoulders…1 – 2 – 3!
The match is done, you drag yourself off the mat and out of the ring. Knowing full well the next match is already on the ticket, with the same opponent.
No fanfare, no adoring fans, just you and your team in the locker room. The lonely life of an underdog professional wrestler.