A Cherished Photo ~ My Mom and I in 2004

The Burning House

I was in this burning house! It was so hot and it burned my eyes and singed my skin. I wasn't alone. There were numerous others inside with me. I could hear their screams, see their fear and understand their terror. It was my terror too!

We tried to get out but just couldn't find the way. It seemed we tried for so long. Some voices grew silent while others in desperation tried to break free.

Some worked together hoping, praying, begging, crying, pleading. Some were alone choosing to fight by themselves seemingly oblivious to the others around them. We all wanted out. It was hot, it became difficult to breathe. We couldn't see our eyes felt the sting and the burn.

Something grabs a hold of me and pulls. It is now dark and cold. I stumble to the ground. I have been rescued. I am shocked. I cannot seem to shake this stunning change of events. I hear a voice in the crowd, "thank God you are free", thank God you are alive", you should shout for joy, dance, celebrate. I think to myself, perhaps I should but somehow I cannot.

I can hardly stand. I get to my feet and as I catch my first full breathe of air I begin to walk. Step by step I walk back toward the burning house. I want back in. I want to, I need to, I must try to bring the others out. I am almost to the blazing door, I am reaching, I'm here, I'm coming I yell.

Hands are pulling me back, away. They won't let me go. Arms surround me pulling me farther and farther away.

You don't understand I cry. I know those people, I was in that fire. I smelled the smoke, I felt the burn. I was there. I want to get them out but I can't. So I don't dance. I don't sing and I don't forget. With just a word it all comes back and I am there.

So here I am and the house it still burns. It never stops burning and more people are inside, trapped. There is no hose, no water, no amount of effort that can stop it from burning. Until they come up with what will finally put that fire out I will always remember and I will always know what it's like and I will be in pain for those who remain.

That is what it is like to test negative for Huntington's Disease for me. Traumatic, indescribable and life changing. And all I dream about is someone handing me the hose so I can help put it out.