When you have a diagnosis, and you have something with no cure... when you have the same disease that your mother died from... when you are dying:
You stop seeing the vibrant colors of the every day. You lose the pep in your step. Your life stops being about excelling. It gets to be about surviving. You start putting your affairs in order. You try to make sure the "survivors" will be ok.
You stop growing. You stop setting goals aside from "don't lose this ability", "don't get sicker". You stop contributing to the world.
You put your novel away, figuring you'll never be alive to finish it anyway.
But mostly, you lose hope. You stop inspiring others. You stop giving, you try not to take too much, but you stop contributing.
6 years were robbed from me. 6 years I no longer saw the bright everyday colors.
But today I sit here shaking my fist at that diagnosis. I see the colors, I excel each and every day. I am working on projects and I am contributing.