What is time?

Someone once asked Albert Einstein to define time. In the man's wisdom, he said "Time is what is says on the clock," or something to that affect.

Was it the man's intellect coming through to say there is no definition of time? It is something that just is. Time has no meaning except for what we define it as. Or is it something else?

I think we define time as those empty periods between the moments that fill our lives. When our lives are filled, time stops. Every sunrise is fresh. Something never seen before. Every little thing has meaning. The air smells wonderful and we breathe it into our toes.

Take that away and life is but a series of empty moments. The sameness rules the day. Everything is the same no matter how different. Then something comes along that changes those empty moments into full ones.

I think when someone has a disease, time takes on a different meaning. If someone says they don't let their disease rule their lives. Don't believe them. In some way, no matter how minuscule, it does.

My shots are just something I do three days a week. I don't even think about them anymore. I just know that I have to arrange my schedule or shoot up where I am. Granted, I'm supposed to shoot up about the same time every time. At this point, I'm past the side affects so timing isn't that big a deal. But, I digress . . .

Now, I measure time as good periods and bad periods. I've had a good period for quite a while. This week sucks. I am having a myelitis flare up. My left calf has been cramped since Sunday. Half my left leg is numb and tingly and the other half isn't. My feet are on fire, yet I can't really feel them.

Yet . . . I continue on. I don't let my disease rule my life. I got over the fact that the athlete that I was has died and will only be reborn if the myelitis goes away. Yet it is something that I have to face, deal with, and live with everyday.