Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.
"No words to express....."
dis-in-tə-grāt = To become reduced to components, fragments, or particles.I have undoubtedly avoided writing about my Multiple Sclerosis for the past year. It makes me sad. I feel like writing about it makes it real and THAT makes me sad. Truthfully though, just living with it makes me sad. Not every day but often enough to be a thing I want to avoid. There are other things more putrid that I would rather do lately than discuss, talk or write about than what MS is doing to my body.
I need to start by stating that I felt compelled for the first time this year to fundraise for the MS Walk. Compelled because I began to feel a new sense of urgency I never felt before and it was brought on by a very upsetting new change in the landscape of my young body caused by…MS. First it was my left foot that started to look strange. Later it was confirmed by the Physical Therapist that I had atrophy of my left leg, ankle, foot and toes. Followed by a month ago, when I noticed after I got out of the shower that I had a massive dent in my upper thigh/hip area. I was informed that this is also an area of atrophy caused by MS.
Informed. No one even attempted to soften the blow to my youthful and appropriate vanity. No, “I’m sorry, this is what MS does.” Just: “Yup, it’s the same as your foot.” So, god only knows if I will wake up tomorrow with another gap in my muscle on that leg. I hate MS.
There are no words to express how I feel about what MS is doing to my body. I have been struggling with another MS related change. My left foot no longer stays flat when I walk due to spasticity. I just tried out my custom fit AFO for the first time and although it needs some adjustments, it does help to keep my foot flat. The problem I have with it is that it makes wearing shoes impossible. Will I ever wear the thing? Probably not. It’s bulky, and due to my Dysautonomia I can’t walk that far anyway.
It is difficult to explain to people what it’s like to be almost 34 years old and not be able to walk with a normal gait, if at all. Or to be steadily losing your vision. Or to watch your young body be slowly disfigured by a disease you can’t understand and you can barely even pronounce.
I have been torn lately about how to confront my MS and I have some important choices to make this week. I have been off Tysabri since July 2008, taking my time to choose which disease modifying drug to go on. I realize I have taken too long because I have had a few small flare ups. I am thankful they have been nothing serious. Next week I see my Neurologist and I may choose Avonex. I am apprehensive about it because I had a bad reaction to Betaseron and they are so similar. I wish there was a better answer to treatment.
Time to choose…
MS'er Faith says
Here's to you...
Here's to you...
This Thursday and Friday marked the end of my ski season (in a different way--keep reading), where I did improve (and hopefully will improve next year too!) By being up in the mountains, I missed the front range blizzard in Colorado.
A week or 2 ago I got a message from the old sprint coach at my high school, who I also felt gave me some pointers, was a motivator, and is one of the most beautiful people I will ever have the privilege of meeting and having as a motivator when I was in high school. I exchanged the usual how are you when she contacted me, and the surprising answer was she was not so good. While I have MS, she now has been diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease.
So I have been thinking a lot about her--some anger, sadness, tears, etc. The thing I will never forget about her was what she told me after I finished 2nd in a 2 mile track race, at a big meet where I was really supposed to finish 5th or 6th. I don't remember what anyone else told me after that race, but I remember her taking the time to take me aside and tell me that I could have won that race. And I knew it. I'll never forget that.
This Thur and Fri her words from way back in high school continued to go through my head. I got to a point on the slope that I always somewhat miss and all of a sudden I heard in my head, "Beth, you could have won that race." With that, I sat up, leaned as I should, and nailed that point on the slope, and then never missed it the rest of the 2 days. There were other points too where her words came into play, and it made the 2 days of skiing more meaningful and more memorable.
Here's to you, Coach. This race I did win! And then I smiled one of my biggest smiles, ever!
Lazy Julie is Whining my way to a grateful heart...
Instead of sharing how I worked my way through my process to get to a place of humor, perspective, and gratitude, I thought I would share the mucky part before that and see if it makes me feel any better.
I am at the MS Center getting my monthly solumedrol drip, except I had to wait a half hour after the start of my appointment since I missed my March appointment. I am being punished for my non-compliance even though I am here which means I am trying to be compliant. Too late. I'm in the slot and there I will stay.
My feet are still numb and cold and even though I left a message for the neurologist yesterday, I have yet to receive a call back. And even though I am actually present in her office, she has yet to come by to see me and respond to my message about the numb feet. More punishment? I'll show her. She misses the solumedrol and her feet get numb, let her suffer because she deserves it. She brought it on herself.
I am alone. Lots of people are here alone but there are also people who have loved ones with them. It's probably 75% alone and 25% with people. So why I comparing myself to the minority and feeling bad?
The woman who is getting an infusion in the next pot just went to the bathroom. Her husband lifted her from the recliner into her wheelchair and then took her into the bathroom. I'm assuming he had to pull down her pants, put her on the toilet and either empty her cath bag (is there such a thing) or wipe her after she went to the bathroom. Who, exactly, would do that for me? Not that I want to be in a position to be having ANYONE take me to the bathroom but, God forbid, who will take me?
I am feeling like I have no loved ones that love me THAT MUCH. I am filled with self-pity and devoid of all gratitude. I am missing my dad and started crying when the nurse asked me why I missed the March appointment. I am missing that he was a person related to me who gave a shit and who I could count on no matter what. He would never let me be homeless. But I am not homeless. I have a job and a home and a refrigerator full of food.
I am missing Ken, too, not just as my boyfriend but HIM in particular. I am missing his eyes and his voice and his kindness and his hands and his love and his body. I'm not sure why I am missing him here and now. He never came to solmedrol drip appointments with me at this place. He probably would have tried to come if I asked but he never, ever would have offered on his own. Maybe I'm missing who I wish he could have been for me. In our relationship, he gave me a lot but he could not or didn't want to give me his whole self and his whole heart as a life partner. I am missing what he NEVER could give me. But then again, I hate when people feel sorry for me and cling to my independence at all costs so why am I craving that kind of support?
I am tired and want to fall asleep but I'm supposed to be working which I'm not doing anyway, so I should probably stop whining and either do some work or shut my eyes. I keep switching screens from this one to work email and feeling resentful about that.
I am, in short, not in a good place. I am sad, mad, scared, and, generally pathetic. I know that this too will pass. I know that because I am sharing my feelings, they will be halved I will get relief from the poison in my brain.
A woman just came in with a three-month old baby and I feel better looking at his peaceful face asleep in the stroller. Thank God.
I am not asking for help and I should be. I just closed my eyes and asked but I was not hit by a bolt of spiritual lightning.
This concludes the 34th edition of the Carnival.