Another Rare Disease Day came and went, and once again I didn’t do a damn thing to acknowledge it. I just let it pass like an ordinary day like I always do. And I feel terribly guilty about that.
Rare Disease Day has happened on the last day of February every year since 2008. As it approaches, I get all anxious and intimidated because I feel like I’m supposed to be doing something in observation of it, but I don’t know what to do. It’s kind of like Presidents’ Day in that way. I prefer holidays where everyone knows what you’re supposed to do. Like on the Fourth of July, you shoot off fireworks, and on Thanksgiving you eat like a damn pig. Everyone knows what you’re supposed to eat on normal holidays like these, too. On Thanksgiving you eat turkey, and on the Fourth of July you have a barbecue. But wha