Dear diary

I am a man! That being said, as a young boy I liked getting dirty. As I got older, I went from a tricycle to a bicycle. Bicycles are faster. From that epiphany learned I loved going fast. From that I devoured car magazines. Eventually I bought a car that I could race(drag) Race cars cost money. So with my inflation for getting dirty/greasy and seeing how things come apart and go back together I became a machinist, a perfect fit. As I got older I kept wanting to go faster.

Then my world came crashing down. Just as I finally reached a point wear my talent was starting to shine, my MS bit me hard. No more working and no more racing. I sold all my machinist tools and my race car. I had lost my identity. That caused a deep depression and serious thoughts of leaving my "mortal coil". Alcohol became my best friend. After losing a close friend to alcohol I saw that that was not the path I wanted to follow, so I dried myself up, cleaned myself off and found some excellent medical help (both physical and mental) through Cleveland Clinic. And that is why I am here today. Happy as a clam, yes I am, yes I am! :)

P.S. Just finished 61 trips around the sun. Wee-e-e.