Last time, I had just gotten a Facebook message from my friend, “Fred.” I also used the letters, “ALS.”
I had not been surprised to get the note. As I said before, Facebook messages had become Fred’s medium of choice for communication. The reasons for that were complicated. He was less and less interested in the phone--he said because he didn’t like advertising calls. He didn’t care for email, which brought him too much spam. Texting wasn’t his thing--his fingers were too fat for that, he said. But Facebook...that was another matter entirely. He liked that, and he loved Facebook messenger, which let him keep in contact with his friends all over the world.
Oh, there was one other reason why he’d given up on the phone. And I should have known that it was significant. He had allergies, he thought. It made his voice hoarse, he said. So it was easier for him not to speak.
Ah, hindsight...
About the photos: Today’s entry presents me with some problems. It doesn’t seem fitting to post happy snaps when the subject is so sad. But, here goes. First, a photo of the disused presses at Judy’s newspaper. The paper used to print its own copies, but no longer does so. The presses, however, remain. They strike me as tragic, but still impressive.
Second, here’s Martha and Judy from a few years back. As I recall, Judy was visiting us in New Mexico.
Finally, third, here’s another experiment. This is based on a photo I took in Kansas and then processed the heck out of with all sorts of software, including some AI. I think it feels right for my story about Fred. I wish he could have walked that field.
Anyway, that day, I was pleased to see his note. I had been a little worried about Fred. Other than a brother and his brother’s children in New Mexico, he had no family to speak of. There was no spouse or partner in the picture that I knew of. Never had been, as near as I could tell.
I didn’t know what close friends...if any...he might have in the small city in which he elected to live. I later learned that I was right to be worried. He had some friends at the place where he worked, but they were acquaintances rather than close confidants. I also learned that most of his connections...his real friendships...were at a distance. Most of his them were online...via social media...and were either people he’d known in school, like me, or individuals that he’d met in chatrooms and forums but whom he’d never actually met in person.
So, I liked to, well, check up on him now and then.
I opened the note. I expected one of his chatty little missives -- what he was doing, what he thought about the state of American politics, what his plans were for the holidays. He was also preparing to retire. He was moving back to New Mexico. He was excited about that. He had an apartment building selected. It was near his brother’s place. All good.
Though...recently...he’d been complaining about his health. He had, he thought, serious arthritis in one of his legs. He was having trouble walking. And there was the issue of his voice. It was, as I said before, hoarse. Allergies, he thought. He told me all about the herbal teas...sweetened with a goodly dose of honey...he’d been taking to soothe his throat.
He was a bit angry at his doctors. He’d been going to see several of them -- his GP, a nose, throat, and eye man, an allergist, other specialists. They hadn’t been able to help him. He expressed his frustration to me.
I opened his note. It began “Well, if this just doesn’t take the biscuit!”
His doctor had just suggested that he could have ALS, Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, a.k.a, Lou Gehrig’s Disease. Actually, at the time, he wasn’t entirely certain. He’d been told by his doctor that he *might* have it. They’d have to wait until they’d done several more tests, including an MRI. But...(*)
I was horrified.
I wrote back that I was so very, very sorry. And that I would cross my fingers and wish him all the luck in the world.
And I told him...I was lying...that I was *sure* it wasn’t ALS. I was certain...I lied again...that the MRI would show he just had some allergies and arthritis. And that, in a year or so, I’d be visiting him in his new home in New Mexico. “Good vibes sent your way,” I concluded.
He thanked me “for the vibes.”
I’m sure that he knew, as I knew, that none of it was true. But, we pretended. I pretended for him. He pretended to believe me...as much for my comfort as for his.
All false.
But, come, let’s admit. Sometimes...sometimes...
There is a great virtue in make believe.
More to come.
Footnotes:
For more information on ALS, try these websites:
*ALS, Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ALS
*ALS Association, https://www.als.org/
*ALS Therapy Development Institute, https://www.als.org/
*ALS News Today, https://alsnewstoday.com/
*The International Alliance of ALS/MND Associations, https://www.als-mnd.org/
*MNDA: the Motor Neurone Disease Association, https://www.mndassociation.org/
*Target ALS, https://www.targetals.org/, which also has a useful subpage on Bulbar Onset ALS, https://www.targetals.org/2022/05/10/what-is-bulbar-onset-als-six-things-to-know/
* What to know about bulbar onset ALS, Medical News Today, https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/bulbar-onset-als
Copyright©2025 Michael Jay Tucker
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