I and my computer are alike in one way. We both have MS. It is essentially the case with me that everything has either slowed down or hit a nonnegotiable snag. Some functions are running an endless loop, others are loading, but like dial-up.
Case in point: Having stopped at Starbucks this morning, as is my usual habit, gotten my coffee, and started up my laptop, I found upon sitting before the screen that neither I nor it were receiving nor loading any information whatsoever. In short, we were not functioning as designed to do.
So it happened that what is corporeal, my brain, experienced a certain fellowship with what is inanimate, the computer, in as far as we were equally unable to function. Moreover, we were unable to do so for what is essentially the same reason--to whit, the circuitry and mechanics of ability had been infiltrated and compromised by other obstinate processes, turning the whole system on its head, adding a prefix, and resulting in disability.
Since function precedes dysfunction (rather in the way that love precedes marriage), we (the computer and I) cannot be said to be suffering a foreign invasion, for the dysfunction is in need of the function to begin with--a conundrum which was put best by the military officer who said "I have seen the enemy, and he is us."
To be so concluded, however, lends hardly much in the way of consolation. I guess the difference is that the computer doesn't care, while my own caring is moot.