GOOD LUCK

I take the elevator up with a ghostly elfin woman, white faced and white hair (like a fright wig).
She's short and plump in a purple sweater - relaxed and accepting about her peculiar appearance.

"Do you think you can make it?" she asks holding the elevator door.

"Sure,  I think I can make it." (Am I that bad?)

The doors close, a moment of silence and then,

"It's a good life unless you weaken."

"I'm sorry."

"Ever heard that expression? It's a good life unless you weaken?"

An automatic smile, "No, I haven't."

"Yep, it's a good life unless you weaken."

She smiles contently (looking no where in particular) as if THIS is her very favorite epigram and through my disability has fondly rediscovered it.  She is being folksy and warm here,  but the more she repeats it, the more it feels like a rebuke.

"It's a good life unless you weaken."

"Well, I've certainly weakened." I say because what else is there to say.

I get off the elevator first and as the doors shut I hear,

"Good luck!"

I'm not sure what luck has to do with it.
I hear this sentiment often. It feels wrong (to me) to bring up the idea of luck when talking about someone's health. Luck is for lottery tickets. Your health is your g-d given rite.

"I'll pray for you," feels dramatic and makes me lonely, but at least it suggests an action to bring about change.

I like what Jackie (my 72 year old next door neighbor) says,

"Charlie, you're going to be fine!! I know it!! I'm never wrong about these things!!  I can feel it in my very bones!!