The gist of the below text: I would very much like to afford a power/motor-assisted wheelchair so that I may rejoin the world! Check it. The skinny, as it were. Depending what kind of girth I want to detail, this might be a dang skin 'n bones type 'o a selection of prose. I am Dennis Cornell, and lately my body has been pulling a string of goofs. To extrapolate on the zany situations, I was diagnosed with primary-progressive multiple sclerosis in the winter of 2011, being that my first symptoms had cropped up just that fall. At the time I was 22 years of age, and I was managing the symptoms well, as they weren't that extreme in nature. Some weakness, numbness, various stages of visual anomalies, and spasms, but manageable with a bit of planning. I was living pretty normally. Take it to about 2016, I was sauntering the streets of Ann Arbor, Michigan and I could see some changes occurring. Just a general worsening, but still not debilitating. I moved back to Flint, and in 2017, my symptoms continued a downturn, and this caused some dismay within me. From there, symptoms were taking the downward slope at a steady, slow rate, and they began to make everything difficult. Everything. I had already mostly secluded myself, and I finally made the decision to move to Georgia to be with my mother and step-father. Let me tell you about my parents, and this is where I will be getting sentimental. My parents paid to move me down to Georgia, to move all of my belongings, my whole existence, and it was an expensive sort of venture. For that I am grateful beyond compare, but they also opened up their home to me in my greatest time of need. They made it possible to garner hope again. It doesn't stop there with my parents. Between December 2017 and now my symptoms have taken a rapid exacerbation, and I have required a fair amount of ambulatory devices and a yacht-load of accessibility items. My symptoms got worse, which means everything that has to deal with doing anything got worse. Using my hands, walking, vision, cognition, extreme stiffness, extreme muscle weakness everywhere. It's a whole list even Santa would sweat at upon seeing the length. But, through it all, my parents have been there, making accommodations, sacrificing much so that I may exist in relative comfort. There's also the unequivocal help from my friends. It gives me hope that I can one day wrest some of the normalcy I dearly desire. It was with the push from my friends Cody Larue and Keith Music that I was able to muster up the courage to admit to myself and everyone else of what my place was these days. Not just them, but so many others have influenced the decision, of which I am sure they will all find to be the right thing to do! This leads me to the whole reason for this page. I've secluded myself these past few months because of my difficulty walking. The difficulty becomes a near impossibility if I want to sojourn anywhere that isn't a short, flat walk with my walker. Even with the walker, I can only walk safely for short spurts. A manual wheelchair is a bit better, but with my fatigue and muscle weakness, it becomes an insurmountable proposition. With this said, I require a power/motor-assisted wheelchair so that I may become a part of the world again. I want to scoot aboot again. Want to be able to explore my surroundings with the ease that this device would allow me. Rip up the streets, be they mean or unclean, with the gusto that footfalls once afforded me. Any help is appreciated, and I will try to update this page with my gratitude's. I hope that this babble will meet you with the ease at which it has become to admit!