Thursday, August 28, 2025 – Day 380

Thursday, August 28, 2025

Good morning all, and thank you for walking this ALS journey with me.

I’ve shared before about one of the more unpredictable symptoms of ALS: pseudo bulbar affect (PBA). About half of ALS patients experience it—sudden waves of emotion that come out of nowhere. A couple weeks ago I was prescribed a drug called Nuedexta to help manage it, but swallowing the pills was too difficult…I kept choking them back up. I never got a single pill down. The next suggestion was Zoloft. That’s when I stopped and thought: Do I really want to take an antidepressant?

For me, these emotional episodes aren’t constant. And once I learned that Zoloft is not something you can just stop cold turkey—that it comes with its own list of side effects—I decided against it. A few unexpected tears now and then aren’t the end of the world. I’ll work through those moments as best I can.

The other night I was out at Sew Hop’d with Mark and Mike, sitting at a picnic table. After an hour or so, I started getting bad neck cramps. I’ve realized that without back support, my weak core tires quickly and my upper body follows. Fifteen minutes is about all I can manage before discomfort sets in and the neck discomfort will overtake me. So I was the one who called an early end to the outing—which was probably for the best, since more beer wasn’t exactly what I needed before heading home to an empty house.

As we were packing up, Mark went in to close out the tab, and Mike stayed back with me. I told him about the neck issue, and he said something that really hit home. He mentioned how ALS sucks, how much has changed since we first met just a couple years ago, and how grateful he was for our friendship and other stuff that I already can’t recall. Cindy and I feel the same way about Mike and Beth—we’ve shared a lot in a short time.

But hearing Mike say it out loud struck an emotional chord. Suddenly, my eyes welled up, my voice gave out, and I couldn’t get words across for a good 60 seconds. It was rough—but it was also honest and real. ALS does suck. I wish I didn’t have it. But I do, and I’ll keep meeting it each day with courage, a positive attitude, and a smile when I can.

It means the world to still get out, share laughs, and enjoy normal things. Thank you, Mark and Mike, for Tuesday night. And thank you to all of you—family, friends, Andy’s Army—for standing with me. I couldn’t do this alone nor would I want to.

It’s a new day. I’m ready to tackle it and make the most of whatever comes.

Have a great Thursday. Love you guys! ❤️

Today’s photo…Cindy caught me in front of the fireplace. It feels good to take the chill out of the morning air. After an hour or so, I have to turn it off when I hear the a/c kick on.