Here is the story from The Daily Press, our local newspaper, about me and PKD. The print version included a half page picture of me lifting weights. I look lame. The picture of me and my daughter is much better.
I have to say I was surprised it was so extensive, and, I dunno, embarrassed? Maybe that's not the right word, but while I'm not usually one to shun the spotlight, this article feels, well, it feels like they should be writing about somebody else. Somebody more important, somebody sicker, somebody who is doing more to fight the disease. I'm not exactly out there on the front lines---I haven't even been to a PKD Walk in 2 years. And my life is really good! I look at my kids, both healthy and happy (and potty trained---oh yeah baby, you heard right) and I realize that I could look back on these years as the best years of my life. Both kids at home, both living simple lives, both facing problems that rarely go beyond who was being a butt-head during recess kickball. We have a good life, and I don't go a day where I don't offer a prayer of gratitude for everything we have going for us.
Bottom line, I'm doing pretty well. And besides not being able to kick this recent cold that has left me coughing up my lungs and singing show tunes an octave lower than usual, I usually feel pretty good too.
Still, my kid IS pretty cute. And she takes a dang good picture, if I do say so myself.