Duck, Duck, Duck, Goose!

Remember that game you played in pre-school? When one kid walked around a circle of kids, tapping each one on the head saying, "Duck, Duck, Duck," until one unlucky kid who got tapped with a "GOOSE!"

The new "Goose" had to chase the old "Goose" around the circle and try and tag them before they sat in the empty spot in the circle.

All the kids hoped beyond hope they wouldn't get stuck being the "Goose".

That game where the goose is chosen somewhat at random reminds me how someone with an illness feels and asks, "Why me?"

I know there are many spiritual reasons people use to explain life's randomness. I have heard:

"God only gives you what he knows you can handle."

"Suffering is God's way of bringing you closer to him."

"You must know the bad before you understand the good."

The list goes on. Those who believe in past lives would say any hurt or difficulty you face in this life is retribution for an error from a past life. Some say all aspects of life are pre-determined and fit in with God's bigger plan.

For someone with genetic disease, passed on through the generations, it's a question you ask often when you are affected and others in your family are not. Why me? What happened to make me get this faulty gene but miss it in my cousins or sibling.

For me, it's part of what makes it hard for my family to understand FSHD since I am the only one in the family who has it.

I have a brother. My big brother who I secretly adore and look up to. But on the outside, we are two stars of your favourite comedy show, making fun of each other whenever possible.

He is strong, successful, humble, a natural athlete and leader and is always the person in the room you want to know. And I was the geeky, pesky younger sister who couldn't do anything right.

Don't misunderstand, I have never once asked, "Why not him?" That would be unbearable for me. I suppose I was the right choice, if I can make some good come out of it. But it took a long time to get t this point where I accept it and simply try to make the best of it.

I just didn't understand what I had done wrong. I must have done something wrong in this life, in another life. I must have hurt someone or put them through equal pain to suffer with this disease. "Why me?" became "What did I do to deserve this?"

I'm not sure there is ever a good answer you can give to comfort someone who is suffering through an illness or difficult time.

For me, I believe there is a reason it was me and all reasons will be revealed in time. In the meantime, I try not to be too hard on myself.