Saturday is World Rare Disease Day. What? The? Hell?
The internet is the skinny, pretty, perky, perfect blonde from high school looking down on you with distaste because she has to share the earth with the likes of people like me. She mocks you for having the audacity even to be there sharing her oxygen, because really? How did YOU get here?? The internet points at all your fears and insecurities, all the things you work tirelessly to hide, because you try like hell to avoid disclosing your vulnerabilities to the popular girls. She cuts you to the core, not because you’re seeking her approval; you’re sending up a silent prayer that you fly just enough below her radar to escape notice. And then, BOOM.
In your face(book feed) you find a status update from MDA saying this:
Saturday is World #RareDiseaseDay, but we know that for the courageous families we serve who are living with and fighting neuromuscular diseases every day, their disease feels anything but rare. Read our post “Anything But Rare” at http://ow.ly/JGp1u and join us in supporting the 30 million Americans affected by a rare disease by sharing it with your friends and family. Rare Disease Day US.
This is a thing? Nope. Not gonna do it. Talk to me next year–who knows? Maybe I’ll be chairing some stupid gala for Rare Disease Day US, but not now, no way, not Saturday, not yet. I told you the internet was a dangerous place. I knew this very thing would happen once I started seeking information about MD–that everywhere I looked online MUSCULAR DYSTROPHY would be there staring me down, tormenting me in all caps, bold, italicized font, and I was right. Some people (those possessing a far inferior moral compass than I, naturally) like to gloat about being right, but me? Nah, not so much. That princess the internet wouldn’t even get it. She’s still too good for me. She’d never stress-eat a third of a bag of Doritos. Skinny bitch!