I have now taken my second phototherapy, and to be honest it has made my itching worse. I was anticipating that, as I have heard that sometimes it makes things worse before it makes things better. I had a particularly intense itch session this morning and my legs are now raw.
In the middle of my itchfest this morning I was reminded of my oldest brother Paul, pictured above. I am the youngest of five and he is the oldest. He is also on my short list of most admired people, and I love him dearly. About 10 years ago, when he was about the age I am now, he died from complications of type 1 diabetes. He decided he was ready to be with God and stopped his dialysis. He died peacefully and honorably surrounded by his loving family and friends.
In the final years of his life his circulation became bad enough that he lost fingers and eventually had both legs amputated. It didn't slow him down one bit and I never heard him complain about it. Not once. He felt he could be an inspiration to others. He was, and continues to be.
Now, when my legs itch I can remind myself that they are simply shouting at me that they are there. I have legs.