Sunday, November 23, 2025 – Day 467

Sunday, November 23, 2025

Good morning, everyone.

I stuck with my formula feedings yesterday and even squeezed in some enchiladas, so I know I got the calories in. I didn’t get on the scale—and honestly, even that small task takes effort because I wobble so much I end up with an error.. So no weight update today. I’ll shoot for tomorrow.

I spent most of Saturday with a book in my hands. It was quiet, calm, and simple—and right now, those kinds of days feel like a gift. College football was on, but I didn’t chase it. I’m saving my energy for the bowl games.

I’ve got a good stack of book recommendations for the weeks ahead, and I’m grateful for that. It’s comforting to have something to look forward to. And then—out of nowhere—a surprise mystery showed up in the mail, set up in Northern Wisconsin. Thank you, Di. Little surprises like that land differently these days. They feel personal. They feel like care. They feel like love.💕

Last night was harder. Sitting by the fire, I suddenly couldn’t catch my breath. No matter how slowly or deeply I inhaled, it felt like the air just wasn’t making it into my body. It hit me fast..a wave of panic I couldn’t think my way out of. It’s a frightening thing to feel your body fall short on something as basic as breathing. I don’t know if it was fatigue or if my diaphragm just quit cooperating, but it shook me.

I used the respirator, and after ten minutes, things settled down. But in those ten minutes, I was scared. Being short on oxygen is foreign territory for me…and it reminded me, in a way I couldn’t ignore, that ALS keeps moving even when I’d give anything for it to stop. Waking up this morning feeling normal was a relief I felt all the way down to my bones.

There was a bright spot this week: I now have two local guys facing this same road—people who truly understand what this disease takes, physically and emotionally. Pete in Rolling Meadows, who posts weekly videos on Instagram (Petersaunders10), and now Scott from McHenry.

Scott’s story rattled me. He felt symptoms in 2016 but wasn’t officially diagnosed until 2022—six long years of confusion, wrong answers, surgeries that caused more harm than good. Six years of knowing something was wrong, but not knowing what. I can’t imagine that. The mental toll alone… I’m still stunned by how quickly I was diagnosed. It feels like a strange kind of luck in a very unlucky situation.

And all of these connections trace back to one person: Peggy. “Angel Peggy.” She doesn’t just coordinate care…she connects lives. She lightens burdens that most people never see. She steps into the hardest parts of ALS and brings calm, direction, and compassion. She is one of the few people who can hold both the medical truth and the emotional weight at the same time. I’m grateful for her…deeply. And I know Scott and Pete would echo that without hesitation.

This journey can feel isolating, even in a full room. But knowing there are people walking the same road…people I can reach out to, people who get it…gives me something I didn’t realize I needed: solidarity. A place to say the hard things out loud.

Everyone, have a great Sunday. Make it the best day possible. Go Bears! And sorry, Mr. Peachy…married to my sister Maria…your Steelers loyalty is noted and respected. Just not today. Love you guys. ❤️

Photo today:
Wyatt and Mike wearing Andy’s Army shirts at the Del Ray Farmers Market in Alexandria, VA—a reminder that this community stretches farther than I ever imagined