Friday, May 30, 2025 – Day 290

Friday, May 30, 2025

Good morning — we’ve made it to Friday!

Today’s topic… loose lips.
Yes, literally and figuratively.

As you know, ALS comes with a parade of symptoms, each one waiting its turn to mess with your daily routine. I’ve shared most of them with you along this wild ride, and today, we’re adding more to the scrapbook.

Each morning starts the same: fire up the coffee maker, take my pills (do they work? who knows — but Big Pharma’s definitely getting paid), settle into my chair…which I think I’ve crushed the cushion…and while I wake up, I play some backgammon.

Speaking of which… Chrissy M., I think it’s time for a rematch. You used to dominate back in the day. You game?

Once I’m situated, I sip my coffee and ease into the morning. 
At least, that’s the idea.

But lately, my lips haven’t been forming a tight seal around the mug. So, every few sips, a rogue drop or two escapes and lands — you guessed it — right on the top of my t-shirt. Not the end of the world — better the shirt than the rug or chair — but I’ve started noticing those spots aren’t coming out in the wash. Totally my fault. I dump the shirt in the laundry (okay, near the basket), forget about it, and the drip becomes a permanent souvenir. Loose lips sink t-shirts.

And it’s not just a coffee thing. Drinking from a can? Pretty much off the table now — unless I take itty-bitty sips. That helps reduce spillage, but stretches a single beer into a two-hour event. On the plus side, it’s a very budget-friendly drinking pace.

I’m still using pint and tumbler glasses, but they’re getting risky. My thumbs can’t wrap around them for a solid grip anymore, so I’ve started using two hands when things feel dicey. We’ve got some lightweight mugs arriving today — I can still manage a handle — but if the mug’s too heavy, my arms start shaking like I’m trying to bench press a pound of butter. Fingers crossed these new mugs buy me a few more months of independence.

Then there’s the nighttime drool. I think I’ve mentioned this before. All it really does is get the pillow wet. No big deal… unless you’re the pillow.

During the day, it’s sneakier. I’ll be reading — completely focused — and then plop, another droplet hits my shirt. It’s never when I’m ready for it. This sucks. Literally.

And now, the figurative kind of loose lips… Cindy says I can’t keep a secret. I beg to differ… mostly. I think it’s really a definition issue — I just don’t always know what’s a secret and what’s general knowledge. If she tells me 5–10 times, I usually catch on.

A few weeks back, we were out with friends, and I headed to the restroom. That’s when I discovered I couldn’t open the fly on my pants. So, I start doing this subtle little dance — trying to get everything freed up — and one of my friends who followed me (no names needed here) notices that I seem to have a problem and asks if I need help. The short answer was “yes.” The long answer was “I’m not ready for someone to help me with my bodily functions. At least not yet. And definitely not in a public restroom.”

Still… a kind offer. I don’t know too many people who would step up for that job. Myself included. So I politely decline. However…now I’m on my own and failure won’t be pretty.

Thankfully, with a shot of adrenaline, I managed to wrangle open the magnetic fly on my new pants — the ones that save me from dealing with buttons and zippers. I wasn’t prepared for just how strong those magnets were. But I got the job done. Relieved, in every sense. I think my friend was relieved too.

Now it’s just another memory to laugh about.

Today’s photo is of me trying to get some writing done and what better place than outside where it was quiet and I could think.

Have a great Friday.

Love you guys! ❤️