I am middle-aged man and was born with a body not quite right. That last bit meant a hip replacement at 39 and a life of difficulty moving without pain.I am losing bits of me. I am down an adult tooth—yanked instead of saved via root canal because I was too busy—down a hip socket (replaced) and I just felt the leg where my pea-sized scar lump from childhood had been and it's smooth to the touch save for the slight scab of the now stitch-free wound site.My mother lost two toes, her ability to walk and then her mind to dementia. Her road to ruin of MS started in her late-40s and she was scooter-bound about ten years after that. Then her genetic-disposition for dementia arrived and her last three years were lost in a fog of madness.So my losing bits of me and or acquiring new and delicious methods to hurt my existence pale compared to her journey. But then I am about to hit my late-forties will a host of horror slithering in my wake. I just hope MS is not hereditary and that I missed the beat on dementia. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't warped pre-birth and ended up with a body deformed enough to be short, fat and with reduced agility but not enough for people to go "oh, he's got a fucked body" just "I would never fuck that."And they'd be right not to.In the days before science a key ask for parents was if madness was in that family; if there was they'd strongly suggest staying clear of the bloodline.I am mentally ill, have suffered periods of acute cognitive dissonance and have genetic-and-life fired depression along with a risk of dementia late in life. If I was in the days before science I'd be chased into a windmill that was then set alight.So hooray for science and reason and for me keepin' on livin'. My body and mind might be unsound but they bound together to create something bigger than me.You can't ask for a bigger win than that; to have a fucked body and a sad mind yet still limp into the world and try as hard as fuck to make it a better place for everyone.WFTW.