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Show 272 Georgia She is here. My fraternal twin. The other person with stiff-man syndrome. The nurses did not have to confide this to me, though they must have shared my presence with her, because she has come into my room on her own, walking. She is here in my room on her own power and I am amazed that she can walk. She is carrying a stack of studies about stiff-man syndrome and smacks them onto my bedside stand. "You can have these," she is saying. "My husband made these copies for you." I am thanking her, still amazed that she is able to walk, to move freely. My arms are bent and my legs are drawn up, nearly to my chest. Perhaps I look relaxed, perhaps I appear to her as though I had intentionally put myself in this position, but I am unable to move out of this position, unable to assume her apparently comfortable posture. Unable to imitate her apparently fluid movements, i Dr. Jessop had said mine was the worst case he had ever seen but I had not wanted to believe him. |