I Was His Real Disease

I had been married to Ethan Cole for one month when he was diagnosed with ALS.

The doctor said his muscles would gradually atrophy until respiratory failure.

I told him to quit his job, and I worked four jobs a day myself, so exhausted that my feet swelled too much to fit into shoes.

But as long as I could afford his daily physical therapy, I felt it was all worth it.

Until that night, when a drunk man grabbed me and dragged me into an alley, his vulgar words mixed with the stench of alcohol.

I struggled and screamed toward Ethan at the alley entrance: "Call 911! Call 911 now!"