Bad News Looks Like This

Everything was different two days ago. It's interesting when you get to know your future...well, potential future...it makes you start to worry about a lot of "if's" that may or may not really happen. It's making Kimberly sad. She keeps longing for Thursday, before all this happened. We went to a geneticist who informed me that I may have a 50/50 chance of contracting Myotonic Dystrophy (what my dad, sister, nephew, neice, aunt, aunt, grandpa, and cousin all have). That's pretty harrowing. What am I supposed to do with that information right now? I'm healthy (for the most part) right now. Whatever. Anyway, the strangest thing is that I'm not bummed out about it. I'm more worried about Kimberly. The possibility is scaring her. I will say that's one thing that I got from my pops that's been rather useful and cool. My dad never complains. He'll make off-handed comments about how he's doing, "I'm dying...how are you?" and it'll make the room uncomfortable while I just laugh and say, "aren't we all?" He's never said, "God why?" or "How dare this happen to me while I'm still [relatively] young?!?" The man is resolved that the negative thing about his whole disease is the strain it has on my mother and us. Am I going to do the same if I get it? I hope so, because my father deserves as much strength from me as he has had.

Frankly, though, all of this is irrelevant because no one knows their future, and today is Saturday.

[kyle]