Skip to main content

I Feel Crappy, Oh So Crappy . . .

Okay the glass may be half full, but right now it's filled with something other than liquids.

I feel like crap. That's all I can say about that.

It was a possibility that the crap was going to hit the fan - stress isn't kind on the bodies of people with MS. And while a lot of the stress I've been experiencing lately has been good (state championship games and high school play rehearsals and Thanksgiving and a new puppy) - my body is reacting. I won't go into all the gory details - suffice it to say that walking is challenging, fatigue is my new BFF, and numbness all over is the new 'normal'. It's a half-full glass of suckiness.

I actually have a home nurse coming tomorrow to load me up with solmedurol - an IV steroid. It's an exacerbation and I have been fortunate (see there's a positive) to have had few of these in my nearly 20 years with this awful disease. I hate that I have to use a cane. I hate that I can't take my little black havoc wreaker to the dog park. I hate that getting up and down the stairs is a major work out. I hate that I have to plan for tasks so that I know I will have enough energy to complete them. There are so many other things I hate about multiple sclerosis, but they are simply to personal to blog about. What I really hate is that just a couple weeks I felt like a million bucks and now I feel like less than a penny.

The worst part is that anyone reading this is wondering just what they can do to help me - and more than anything I hate being a burden. I am much better at care taking than being taken care of. There's the patient patient John - working much more than 40 hours a week and he's wanting to help. There are all my friends (and Lord I am blessed with many wonderful friends) with hectic busy lives of their own that will want to do something. Anything. And my beautiful wonderful sisters (who battle this damn disease as well) that will listen when I cry to them on the phone. And  my beautiful Mom that will run another five miles in frustration that she cannot personally eradicate the disease the plagues her three daughters. And my three wonderful children who have learned far more about 'getting by' and 'taking care of themselves' then I  ever wanted them to know.

I am not one to complain or even let those close to me know that I am suffering from an exacerbation. But I felt compelled to post it here - maybe a God thing. Maybe just an attempt to let everyone know - I have a blessed life but even it comes with times of trial. Maybe it's a vanity thing - so when you see me hobbling more than ever you'll know there's a reason. So that when you see me with my cane - you won't have to ask and even better I won't have to answer.

Because I hate, more than anything in the world, multiple sclerosis. I know this too shall pass ~ at least that's what I'm telling myself ~ and I detest pity parties. Just know that like you - I wish I knew what I could do to make this all better . . .

Comments

  1. Lovely Kathleen. You have endured so much on this journey. I send prayers of right relationship with good health to you. You are a magical lady with a aura of global goodness that shines brightly always. Thank you for holding that special place in this world. It's a big one and I am sorry that it has taken it's toll on you today. I hope you feel better soon my lovely friend.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Ten Year

When I was in junior high school, I staged a sit-in and learned about 'ten year'. This will come as a total surprise to most of you readers - I was not a perfectly well behaved child. I know, I know - you're shocked, amazed, in wonder how I could have turned out to be so well-behaved despite the oats sown in my youth.  And the sit-in is a perfect example of how I marched to the beat of my own drummer. Miss Brown was an English teacher - and not a very popular one. She would invoke the yardstick on wayward student's hands and scowl the moment we walked into the classroom. We weren't very kind to Miss Brown but then she wasn't very kind to us, either. Personally, the hardest part of having Miss Brown as an English teacher is that she nearly ruined my love of my favorite topic in school. It was the year we were to learn grammar (have I ever mentioned that as a writer I detest grammar?). I think some new way of teaching English was introduced and in all l...

Blubbering Idiot

While doing crunches this morning, I turned on the TV to keep my mind off the exercise I was about to do and the movie "Gran Torino" was playing. It was nearly 3/4 of the way done. Perfect, I thought, I can watch the end of one of my newest favorite movies. Fifteen minutes later, I'm a puddle of tears on the floor. The end of that movie dissolves me to tears every time - and I think I've seen it now about six or seven times. When Clint Eastwood's character goes about his last day - including a lame confession with the priest - locking 'Toad' in the basement, I begin to get weepy. SCENE SPOILER ALERT ! But when he is shot down and is splayed as though crucified on the cross, I become a blubbering idiot. So much softness and sacrifice in one so tough and gruff - it highlights the intensity of his sacrifice for his new family next door. I only need watch the last few minutes of "Gran Torino" to get the full emotional effect. The same can be said...

Hair today gone tomorrow

Before you all begin to think I’m breezing completely through chemo, let me remind you of this:   For the most part I am bald. Or if not completely bald, fuzzy headed, and not in the way I think or am thinking, but in the appearance. A little like a hedgehog or a porcupine with bald patches. On Super Bowl Sunday while most of you were overeating or filling out those little squares to wager on the upcoming game, John and I were having a unique pre-game party. In front of our bathroom mirror with clippers and scissors. Preparing for the certainty of hair loss from my chemo, I decided to buzz my locks to lessen the shock and mess of of losing large chunks of my silver, shoulder-length hair. It was in all honesty one of the most poignant moments in our 30+  year marriage. I had originally asked my friend and former stylist if she could do it . But when I shared my plan with John, he said that he wanted to do it. Certainly that was not expected. So instead of watching th...