When I told her I wanted to be her boyfriend, a Loha had already been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. That was in 2013. I was 26, and she was 29. She looked healthy, so I thought it would be easier for me to say I wanted to be with her.
I know multiple sclerosis sounds terrible.
It is a disease that does not cause just one problem. It leads to multiple: fatigue, numbness, difficulty walking, muscle weakness, tremors, blurred vision, pain, speech difficulties - it can affect anything controlled by the nervous system. There is no cure, and over time, it gets worse. It is a nasty disease.
“So, are you sure you want to be with me?” Aloha asked me. “I’m sick. You know that, right?”
I am 100% sure. Aloha captured my heart with her painting, open mind, and sense of humor. The ugliness of her disease cannot compete with the beauty of her soul. I also like her breasts.
I don’t care what her immune system is doing, nor am I afraid that one day I might push her into a wheelchair. In fact, I think one day *I * might be sitting in a wheelchair. There are a million ways that can happen. So, for me, it seems unreasonable not to start a romance out of concern for what might happen tomorrow.
Tomorrow may never come. Tomorrow the doctor might look at me and say,
“The results of the brain scan don’t look good. Multiple sclerosis - that’s what you have now, buddy.”
Saying “yes” to Aloha’s disease was easy for me. Then, I realized living with it.
In 2013year, I frequently took Aloha to the hospital. Medical check-ups, visits, emergencies, headaches, inexplicable pains - she was only 39, but the doctors saw her much more than my 91-year-old grandmother in my lifetime. Sometimes, she would be tired for no reason and needed to lie on the couch all day. If lucky, this would happen within a week without serious consequences. If I was unlucky, it would happen on the weekend, ruining our plans. If I was very unlucky, it would happen on the day of house cleaning.