My
best
friend,
Dee,
who
has
suffered
from
the
insidious
and
debilitating
disease,
Sarcoidosis,
for
nearly
30
years,
has
many
days
that
are
so
pain-filled
she
should
call
them
"train
wrecks."
Instead,
with
her
determined
spirit,
her
sunny
smile
and
unshakeable
faith
in
God,
she
terms
them
"bumpy
roads."
She
does
this
out
of
compassion
for
her
friends
and
family
who
worry
about
her,
who
fret
because
she
seems
to
have
more
pain
on
her
plate
than
most
people
are
served
in
a
lifetime.
She
calls
her
hard,
pain-filled
days
"bumpy
roads"
because
to
dwell
on
them
would
defeat
her,
lessen
her
resolve,
turn
her
joy
into
melancholy.
And
through
each
bumpy
road
day,
she
still
finds
time
to
sew
little
round
white
buttons
on
the
tummies
of
small
stuffed
teddy
bears,
her
"McDougals",
which
she
sends
to
anyone
who
writes
her
with
a
chronic
illness
who
needs
encouraging.
Hundreds,
perhaps
thousands,
of
people
of
every
age
all
over
the
world
have
received
a
"McDougal."
Dee
asks
the
recipient
to
gently
rub
the
little
tummy
button
whenever
the
pain
is
too
great
to
bear.
It's
just
a
diversion
but
it
works.
I
know.
I
have
a
McDougal.
More
often
than
not,
those
who
suffer
most
from
chronic
pain
show
the
most
compassion,
exhibit
the
greatest
faith,
refuse
to
give
an
inch
to
despair.
That's
Dee.
She
is
remarkably
capable,
determined
and
unbowed.
Lovingly
caring
for
her
elderly
mother
and
worrying
about
her
ailing
son,
she
won't
give
up
and
won't
give
in.
Dee
is
my
inspiration.
Oddly,
we've
never
met.
A
mutual
friend
introduced
us
online
and
we've
become
fast
friends.
Both
of
us
have
physical
challenges.
We
live
a
continent
apart
and
may
never
meet
on
this
earth.
But
we
will
one
day
meet
in
heaven.
For
that
day
when
we
finally
meet,
for
Dee
I
penned
these
lines:
"I
may
not
recognize
you
by
your
face,
my
dearest
friend,
But
I
will
recognize
you
by
your
heart."
