I was lucky

The second meeting was similar to the first. Most of the time was spent trying to find some organization; the couple worked the group for supporters.

I have to admit that I went to it with a knot in my stomach.
I wasn't sure what to expect, but I went. I wasn't sure I hadn't said too much to (I'll call him, J.) about my situation. The group took a break after an hour or so, and I was surprised when one after another of the group approached me.

Each had their own story. Arthritis, a car accident, some incident at work, or a freak moment of pain had begun their journey. One woman was in obvious pain, twisted over a walking stick, her smile was genuine even if I had to look past the sadness in her eyes.
Another woman had tremendous energy from the beginning of the meeting. She seemed to not be hurting at all. Then her face flushed more and more red, and she had to sit. Where she had been all energy and professional for more than an hour, now she could only sit and watch until the end.
She had had two car accidents that had left her back and neck damaged.

All had experienced the same depression, fear, and the horrible anxiety of not being able to face what the future held for them. In most cases, the future only meant that their conditions would get worse.
I was lucky. If I could recuperate from this surgery, there was a chance I could have most of my life back.