Dear friends,
My first MRI scan since I had two rounds of Alemtuzumab treatment has almost brought me to tears.
But those tears are of joy because the scan was only totally clear of any new MS activity on my brain!!! Woohoo!
Yep, so far so good. The Big A has done what it said on the tin and put my MS monster into hibernation.
I don't know how long for and quite frankly any time at all is a bonus.
It's made me smile. And it's made me so thankful to my neurologist for giving me this chance. And it's warmed my very soul that I made the choice I did when I considered my treatment options.
I've been so lucky. Okay I know having MS isn't the luckiest thing in the world, but the timing, the location and the opportunity that came my way has been so very very lucky.
And this may well be one of my last blog entries...
From symptoms to diagnoses to treatment, time flew. I didn't have a chance to get my head around it all. But as Dear Diary has evolved to be able to share every thought, emotion and mood with anybody who happens to stumble across it, I found salvation in this blog.
When my world turned upside down, it was here I was able to off-load. It's been cathartic. And I've been humbled by the friends who have blessed me by reading the nonsense I have often spouted.
I feel like I have done the full circle. I'm back to me again. And all this despite my MS nemesis which although not welcomed with open arms is certainly now just part of me.
Maybe if life throws some more surprises in my direction, I will be back.
But until then my friends, good luck, good health and stay positive.
Au revoir, Sian x
Sunday, 7 July 2013
Monday, 3 June 2013
Spinning around
Something amazing has happened.
But before I reveal all, let me take you back a bit.
About three or four years ago - before I was diagnosed with MS - I started experiencing a bit of a spinning sensation in my head. When I lay down to bed I got a bit giddy. The only way I can explain it is when you have one or two too many sherries and you get that horrible world is spinning feeling when you lie down to sleep. You attempt to enter the world of nod with one foot on the floor in a bid to halt the nausea from the spinning but to no real avail.
I put it down to tiredness and thought no more about it. And then a couple of days later, I woke up to find the whole world was in a mad spin. I couldn't walk unaided. I was in a constant state of fear that my stomach contents were about to erupt from my mouth and it was generally a really scary, horrible experience.
A short visit to the GP later I was diagnosed with something called labyrinthitis - an inner ear infection which can cause vertigo.
Two weeks of bed rest *lying on the sofa with an abundance of day time telly to keep me company* and it disappeared as quick as it arrived.
A year or so later and MS welcomed itself into my life.
And as anyone who has had a recent diagnoses of MS knows, during the obligatory Google search afterwards, dizziness and vertigo pops up as one of the things to look forward to having.
Being one of those idiots who frequently self-diagnoses - not from the many years of medical training a real doctor has to do but from a five minute internet search (it's amazing what you can find at the click of a button these days) - I put down the labyrinthitis to my friend and partner in crime MS.
And lo and behold, the dizzy head is back. I bend down to pick up my bag and my head is in a spin. I turn around quickly to answer a question and my brain feels like it rolls in my skull. As I walk down the stairs I have to clutch the bannister because the stairs feel like they are racing up towards me. And then I go to bed and for a few moments after lying down it feels like I am on a boat in stormy seas. Please someone pass me the sick bag.
"It's all down to MS," I rage at my long-suffering husband.
Two weeks later and I ring the MS nurse in a fit of desperation but knowing full well that I can't be helped (see, my years of medical training have paid off...) and off I trot to the clinic fully convinced that it is all down to over work and sleep deprivation and there's nothing that can be done anyway.
Oh how wrong I was.
A quick explanation of symptoms and the neurologist declares: "This sounds like an ear thing to me not an MS thing."
Apparently I had benign paroxysmal positional vertigo (BPPV) or in layman's terms, grit stones stuck in the inner tubes of my ear messing with my balance. They needed to be encouraged to leave the tubes and this could be done using the Epley Manoeuvre.
He proceeded (with the help of the MS nurse) to throw me around the bed (not quite but kind of) and hey presto! Five minutes later and the dizzy head has gone. No more uncontrollable rolling of the eyes trying to focus when I changed head position. The spinning sensation was banished.
Such was my joy that I immediately went home and sought out a YouTube video of what magic treatment I had just endured to cure me of this ailment. There were loads on there but here is a short one just for you to get an idea.
Despite putting up with the dizzy head several times over the last few years and unfairly blaming MS, the real reason was some pesky little grit crystals stuck in my ear tubes.
And even better, it means that my MS monster is still in hibernation. I had feared that dizzy head was something more sinister but nope. It's been six months since my last and final treatment of Alemtuzumab and so far so good. MS has been rendered dormant and long may that continue.
And on that note, it struck me that today (3rd June 2013) is the second anniversary since MS and I became an official couple living our lives in perfect (kind of) harmony.
What a two years it has been. Lots of ups but lots more downs. But you know what, I'm ok about it. And to use a term I've stumbled across on Twitter but never believed it before now: I have MS but MS doesn't have me. Who knows how long I'll feel like this, but at the moment, it's all ok.
But before I reveal all, let me take you back a bit.
About three or four years ago - before I was diagnosed with MS - I started experiencing a bit of a spinning sensation in my head. When I lay down to bed I got a bit giddy. The only way I can explain it is when you have one or two too many sherries and you get that horrible world is spinning feeling when you lie down to sleep. You attempt to enter the world of nod with one foot on the floor in a bid to halt the nausea from the spinning but to no real avail.
I put it down to tiredness and thought no more about it. And then a couple of days later, I woke up to find the whole world was in a mad spin. I couldn't walk unaided. I was in a constant state of fear that my stomach contents were about to erupt from my mouth and it was generally a really scary, horrible experience.
A short visit to the GP later I was diagnosed with something called labyrinthitis - an inner ear infection which can cause vertigo.
Two weeks of bed rest *lying on the sofa with an abundance of day time telly to keep me company* and it disappeared as quick as it arrived.
A year or so later and MS welcomed itself into my life.
And as anyone who has had a recent diagnoses of MS knows, during the obligatory Google search afterwards, dizziness and vertigo pops up as one of the things to look forward to having.
Being one of those idiots who frequently self-diagnoses - not from the many years of medical training a real doctor has to do but from a five minute internet search (it's amazing what you can find at the click of a button these days) - I put down the labyrinthitis to my friend and partner in crime MS.
So now I've filled in the gaps, let's skip forward to May 2013.
Work is frantic. My hours are long and the stress levels are at an all time high. The toddler has become plagued with the agony of the crowning of the back teeth and a full night's sleep has become a distant dream for him and for me.And lo and behold, the dizzy head is back. I bend down to pick up my bag and my head is in a spin. I turn around quickly to answer a question and my brain feels like it rolls in my skull. As I walk down the stairs I have to clutch the bannister because the stairs feel like they are racing up towards me. And then I go to bed and for a few moments after lying down it feels like I am on a boat in stormy seas. Please someone pass me the sick bag.
"It's all down to MS," I rage at my long-suffering husband.
Two weeks later and I ring the MS nurse in a fit of desperation but knowing full well that I can't be helped (see, my years of medical training have paid off...) and off I trot to the clinic fully convinced that it is all down to over work and sleep deprivation and there's nothing that can be done anyway.
Oh how wrong I was.
A quick explanation of symptoms and the neurologist declares: "This sounds like an ear thing to me not an MS thing."
Apparently I had benign paroxysmal positional vertigo (BPPV) or in layman's terms, grit stones stuck in the inner tubes of my ear messing with my balance. They needed to be encouraged to leave the tubes and this could be done using the Epley Manoeuvre.
He proceeded (with the help of the MS nurse) to throw me around the bed (not quite but kind of) and hey presto! Five minutes later and the dizzy head has gone. No more uncontrollable rolling of the eyes trying to focus when I changed head position. The spinning sensation was banished.
Despite putting up with the dizzy head several times over the last few years and unfairly blaming MS, the real reason was some pesky little grit crystals stuck in my ear tubes.
And even better, it means that my MS monster is still in hibernation. I had feared that dizzy head was something more sinister but nope. It's been six months since my last and final treatment of Alemtuzumab and so far so good. MS has been rendered dormant and long may that continue.
And on that note, it struck me that today (3rd June 2013) is the second anniversary since MS and I became an official couple living our lives in perfect (kind of) harmony.
What a two years it has been. Lots of ups but lots more downs. But you know what, I'm ok about it. And to use a term I've stumbled across on Twitter but never believed it before now: I have MS but MS doesn't have me. Who knows how long I'll feel like this, but at the moment, it's all ok.
Thursday, 18 April 2013
Loosening the mind trip grip
Shhhh - I don't want to say this too loud, but I feel so convinced this time that I'm going to say it.
I don't want to make too much song and dance about it but I have to share.
Ok *deep breath* here goes...
I think I might have got through the MS mind trip!
There I've said it.
And now for the disclaimer.
At least I feel like I have anyway.
I've said it before on this blog... and probably at the time I said it I meant it. And then all of a sudden a couple of weeks later I would write about how MS had got me in its mind trip grip again.
But today it feels different.
And believe it or not, it has all got to do with Northern lass, all around beauty and marathon runner Nell McAndrew.
Ever since that fateful day in June 2011 when I was diagnosed with MS, exercise has not been on top of my agenda.
But as a new year's resolution for 2013, I decided I would try and exercise a couple of times a week. And up until three and a half weeks ago, I was managing to stay on top of my resolution. I found a DVD called 30 Day Shred by Jillian Michaels and was managing to do one of her 20 minute work outs at least every other day.
And then I fell off the exercise wagon. It was a combination of my toddler developing a filthy habit of waking up a couple of times every night, a bit of a stressful time in work and general tiredness enhanced by not having a full night's sleep. It didn't take much for me to abandon my trainers and fall into a ball on the sofa every night rather than follow Jillian and her helpers as they tried to encourage me to tone up my midriff. Chocolate became my friend. And wine became my de-stresser.
"I'll start again tomorrow" became my mantra.
And suddenly the 30 day shred became the 30 day slob.
Enough was enough. And today I decided to give Nell's DVD a whirl.
It was great. It was hard, and I had to stop several times because my lungs felt like they were on fire and my legs had turned to stone, but it was great. Ok it did take nearly an hour for my red cheeks to return to normal colour but it felt so good to actually move again. Nell got me back into the exercise groove.
Then a few hours later, it dawned on me that despite being in an exercise void for nearly a month and feeling guilty for being so lazy, I hadn't (for the first time since becoming me with MS) blamed my inactivity on the monster.
As I reflected, I realised that unless I had been specifically asked - I hadn't even talked about having it. I hadn't spent time dwelling on it. Nor had I used it as an excuse to avoid an occasion.
So my conclusion is that after much soul searching I may actually have got through the MS mind trip.
I'm not saying it'll be the case all the time because I am sure I'll get my dark times again, but at the moment MS is at the back of the queue of everything else in my life.
Like an adolescent pup it tried to assert itself but I've shown it who is top dog and I've also made it quite clear its place in the pecking order is at the back.
And just to make it absolutely clear, I've blown a big raspberry at it and debagged it when its back was turned in a public place. Ha!
I don't want to make too much song and dance about it but I have to share.
Ok *deep breath* here goes...
I think I might have got through the MS mind trip!
There I've said it.
And now for the disclaimer.
At least I feel like I have anyway.
I've said it before on this blog... and probably at the time I said it I meant it. And then all of a sudden a couple of weeks later I would write about how MS had got me in its mind trip grip again.
But today it feels different.
And believe it or not, it has all got to do with Northern lass, all around beauty and marathon runner Nell McAndrew.
Ever since that fateful day in June 2011 when I was diagnosed with MS, exercise has not been on top of my agenda.
But as a new year's resolution for 2013, I decided I would try and exercise a couple of times a week. And up until three and a half weeks ago, I was managing to stay on top of my resolution. I found a DVD called 30 Day Shred by Jillian Michaels and was managing to do one of her 20 minute work outs at least every other day.
And then I fell off the exercise wagon. It was a combination of my toddler developing a filthy habit of waking up a couple of times every night, a bit of a stressful time in work and general tiredness enhanced by not having a full night's sleep. It didn't take much for me to abandon my trainers and fall into a ball on the sofa every night rather than follow Jillian and her helpers as they tried to encourage me to tone up my midriff. Chocolate became my friend. And wine became my de-stresser.
"I'll start again tomorrow" became my mantra.
And suddenly the 30 day shred became the 30 day slob.
Enough was enough. And today I decided to give Nell's DVD a whirl.
It was great. It was hard, and I had to stop several times because my lungs felt like they were on fire and my legs had turned to stone, but it was great. Ok it did take nearly an hour for my red cheeks to return to normal colour but it felt so good to actually move again. Nell got me back into the exercise groove.
Then a few hours later, it dawned on me that despite being in an exercise void for nearly a month and feeling guilty for being so lazy, I hadn't (for the first time since becoming me with MS) blamed my inactivity on the monster.
As I reflected, I realised that unless I had been specifically asked - I hadn't even talked about having it. I hadn't spent time dwelling on it. Nor had I used it as an excuse to avoid an occasion.
So my conclusion is that after much soul searching I may actually have got through the MS mind trip.
I'm not saying it'll be the case all the time because I am sure I'll get my dark times again, but at the moment MS is at the back of the queue of everything else in my life.
Like an adolescent pup it tried to assert itself but I've shown it who is top dog and I've also made it quite clear its place in the pecking order is at the back.
And just to make it absolutely clear, I've blown a big raspberry at it and debagged it when its back was turned in a public place. Ha!
Wednesday, 3 April 2013
Handbag vodka and other things
I am ashamed at how long it has been since I last blogged. More so after my first 'group' meeting with some MSers last night.
I had persuaded myself that now I have admitted my MS status to myself and anyone else who wants to listen it was time to go public with the MS crowd.
And so it was that I ventured into town on a school night and was confronted by a gang of giggly, handbag-vodka swilling, funny and overall nice bunch of people in a Cuban-themed bar in the middle of Cardiff.
It was nice and strange all rolled into one. Nice because these people were friendly - each varying in degrees of gregariousness. They were welcoming and kind and just an all around nice gang.
But it was strange too because on the face of it, to a complete random person who knew no better, we were a gang of mates meeting up and loudly laughing (and laughing and laughing some more). It would have looked like there was nothing unique about us apart from being a bit tipsy (which in a couple of cases was spot on but in a couple of other cases was actually a balance issue) and we would have looked like we were all old friends instead of the reality of us being complete strangers to one another with not a great deal in common apart from fighting the MS monster which was flummoxing each and every one of us often in totally different ways.
It was humbling and interesting hearing snippets of how these people were coping with MS. Don't misunderstand me - this was not a night of soul baring about MS. Nor was it one full of 'woe is me'. It was a night meeting people with a shared interest but not one where our shared interest was dissected to within an inch of its life. Yes there was chat about MS and about treatments and everything connected but it was also a night of sharing nachos and avoiding getting photographed by the keen phone-camera snapper in the group!
In other news, I went back to work in February It took longer than I had expected to get over round two of the Big A. For lots of reasons really including feeling the need to lick the emotional wounds MS dished out and generally not feeling physically ready to get back into full time work. But I'm back now and things are going well. My baby turned from a sweet smiling lovable little soul into a two year old with an independent streak and a determination (and a scream to go with it) to do things his own way.
My life seems normal at the moment. MS is keeping its ugly head down and so far the Big A appears to have thwarted any attempts by my monster to re-emerge.
I do get floored by fatigue by the end of the week (despite me changing from working shifts to a 9-5 day) and am often forced to spend my weekends on a big rest which is frustrating and guilt inducing but overall, things are going okay and I feel positive.
Life is good. Long may it continue.
I had persuaded myself that now I have admitted my MS status to myself and anyone else who wants to listen it was time to go public with the MS crowd.
And so it was that I ventured into town on a school night and was confronted by a gang of giggly, handbag-vodka swilling, funny and overall nice bunch of people in a Cuban-themed bar in the middle of Cardiff.
It was nice and strange all rolled into one. Nice because these people were friendly - each varying in degrees of gregariousness. They were welcoming and kind and just an all around nice gang.
But it was strange too because on the face of it, to a complete random person who knew no better, we were a gang of mates meeting up and loudly laughing (and laughing and laughing some more). It would have looked like there was nothing unique about us apart from being a bit tipsy (which in a couple of cases was spot on but in a couple of other cases was actually a balance issue) and we would have looked like we were all old friends instead of the reality of us being complete strangers to one another with not a great deal in common apart from fighting the MS monster which was flummoxing each and every one of us often in totally different ways.
It was humbling and interesting hearing snippets of how these people were coping with MS. Don't misunderstand me - this was not a night of soul baring about MS. Nor was it one full of 'woe is me'. It was a night meeting people with a shared interest but not one where our shared interest was dissected to within an inch of its life. Yes there was chat about MS and about treatments and everything connected but it was also a night of sharing nachos and avoiding getting photographed by the keen phone-camera snapper in the group!
In other news, I went back to work in February It took longer than I had expected to get over round two of the Big A. For lots of reasons really including feeling the need to lick the emotional wounds MS dished out and generally not feeling physically ready to get back into full time work. But I'm back now and things are going well. My baby turned from a sweet smiling lovable little soul into a two year old with an independent streak and a determination (and a scream to go with it) to do things his own way.
My life seems normal at the moment. MS is keeping its ugly head down and so far the Big A appears to have thwarted any attempts by my monster to re-emerge.
I do get floored by fatigue by the end of the week (despite me changing from working shifts to a 9-5 day) and am often forced to spend my weekends on a big rest which is frustrating and guilt inducing but overall, things are going okay and I feel positive.
Life is good. Long may it continue.
Tuesday, 29 January 2013
It's a MSsy business
Yesterday I met my first real life MS person.
Thanks to the wonder of Twitter, I have made some online friends with MS. But until yesterday, I had not been brave enough to actually meet these people in person.
Instead I preferred to imagine what they looked like and pictured them in their homes with their lives going on around them. I gave them careers and families and even chose what cars they drove if they could drive.
Then out of the blue, I had a direct message on Twitter from one of my online friends. Would I like to meet for a drink with a couple of other people who had MS?
At first I was smothered in a feeling of being part of a new gang that wanted me to join and I replied yes please! But soon after that feeling started to change. And I began to wonder who these people really were. Would they be nice? Would they be 'normal'? Would they be a bit clique-y? Would they be a bunch of moaners who were going to drag me into an MS slump? Would they gang up on me?
And so the elation turned to dread and I quickly found something else to do that day.
But my MS friend didn't forget me as easily. And another invitation soon followed. This time a one-on-one.
By God this friend was persistent.
"Right," I thought, "I'll meet her for half an hour for a coffee. Job done."
And so arrangements were made.
But in the misery I have been loitering in recently, our coffee date was shoved into the recess of my mind and I forgot about it.
Until yesterday morning, about an hour before we were due to meet, when my treacherous mobile phone helpfully beeped a reminder while I was at the opticians.
I dabbled with the idea of standing her up. But my conscience stopped that notion in its tracks - after all she may well have made a real effort to meet me and I didn't know if she had mobility problems.
I was going to have to do it.
So I made my way to Starbucks (yes I know they are tax dodgers but everyone knows where the Starbucks is) and waited in the queue to place my order.
Helpfully the Starbucks team now have to ask customers' names when they place an order so I was listening intently hoping to hear my friend's name being given.
Nope. I didn't hear it.
After getting my coffee, I scanned the cafe. How do you find someone with MS?
I shamefully confess I was looking for someone with a visible disability. Someone with a stick, or a crutch, or a wheelchair.
But there wasn't anyone in the place who had any of those tools.
I sat down. And I text my friend. She replied "I'm coming in now" as I watched the door and spotted her.
The nervous knot in the pit of my tummy tightened as we greeted each other.
But you know what, it was ok. It was more than ok. It was good.
She was nice. She was friendly. She was normal. And I really liked her.
Our half hour coffee date went on for more than an hour.
We chatted about normal stuff. And about MS stuff. And about MS people we were both in contact with.
And then I confessed that my name Sian isn't the name I go by in real life, rather it is my middle name and my MS alter ego.
When I was in the MS closet I was Sian. But now I am out of the closet and people know I have it but I still like to pretend it is Sian who has MS and not me. (Yes I know I am a weirdo but it's an identity thing...)
She laughed. She thought it was funny.
We shared stories of how we were affected by MS, how we were coping with it, how it still screwed our heads up when we were least expecting it.
She well and truly popped my MS cherry - and I am glad she did it so gently.
Now I want to meet my MS online friends in person and I want to become part of the gang.
It's a funny old business this MS thing and sharing it with people who know what it is like too can only help turn it from messy to MSsy.
Thanks to the wonder of Twitter, I have made some online friends with MS. But until yesterday, I had not been brave enough to actually meet these people in person.
Instead I preferred to imagine what they looked like and pictured them in their homes with their lives going on around them. I gave them careers and families and even chose what cars they drove if they could drive.
Then out of the blue, I had a direct message on Twitter from one of my online friends. Would I like to meet for a drink with a couple of other people who had MS?
At first I was smothered in a feeling of being part of a new gang that wanted me to join and I replied yes please! But soon after that feeling started to change. And I began to wonder who these people really were. Would they be nice? Would they be 'normal'? Would they be a bit clique-y? Would they be a bunch of moaners who were going to drag me into an MS slump? Would they gang up on me?
And so the elation turned to dread and I quickly found something else to do that day.
But my MS friend didn't forget me as easily. And another invitation soon followed. This time a one-on-one.
By God this friend was persistent.
"Right," I thought, "I'll meet her for half an hour for a coffee. Job done."
And so arrangements were made.
But in the misery I have been loitering in recently, our coffee date was shoved into the recess of my mind and I forgot about it.
Until yesterday morning, about an hour before we were due to meet, when my treacherous mobile phone helpfully beeped a reminder while I was at the opticians.
I dabbled with the idea of standing her up. But my conscience stopped that notion in its tracks - after all she may well have made a real effort to meet me and I didn't know if she had mobility problems.
I was going to have to do it.
So I made my way to Starbucks (yes I know they are tax dodgers but everyone knows where the Starbucks is) and waited in the queue to place my order.
Helpfully the Starbucks team now have to ask customers' names when they place an order so I was listening intently hoping to hear my friend's name being given.
Nope. I didn't hear it.
After getting my coffee, I scanned the cafe. How do you find someone with MS?
I shamefully confess I was looking for someone with a visible disability. Someone with a stick, or a crutch, or a wheelchair.
But there wasn't anyone in the place who had any of those tools.
I sat down. And I text my friend. She replied "I'm coming in now" as I watched the door and spotted her.
The nervous knot in the pit of my tummy tightened as we greeted each other.
But you know what, it was ok. It was more than ok. It was good.
She was nice. She was friendly. She was normal. And I really liked her.
Our half hour coffee date went on for more than an hour.
We chatted about normal stuff. And about MS stuff. And about MS people we were both in contact with.
And then I confessed that my name Sian isn't the name I go by in real life, rather it is my middle name and my MS alter ego.
When I was in the MS closet I was Sian. But now I am out of the closet and people know I have it but I still like to pretend it is Sian who has MS and not me. (Yes I know I am a weirdo but it's an identity thing...)
She laughed. She thought it was funny.
We shared stories of how we were affected by MS, how we were coping with it, how it still screwed our heads up when we were least expecting it.
She well and truly popped my MS cherry - and I am glad she did it so gently.
Now I want to meet my MS online friends in person and I want to become part of the gang.
It's a funny old business this MS thing and sharing it with people who know what it is like too can only help turn it from messy to MSsy.
Tuesday, 22 January 2013
Confidence hangover
Sometimes things are set to try us.
Sometimes we overcome them. Other times no matter how hard we try, we can't.
And on the odd occasion, we won't even bother to attempt to get through it. We just let it happen.
I find myself being tried by something I don't even know how to get over.
My current crisis is: I have lost my confidence.
It hasn't been a sudden thing, it has been a long, slow creep.
I doubt everything these days.
Questions on how and why something and everything is happening haunt me.
And friendly teasing about my personality traits from those closest to me suddenly feels like merciless cruelty.
Doubt and loathing are now almost daily currency in how I view myself.
I find myself waiting for everyone and anyone who is close to me to also realise what I am. And to quickly rush upstairs, pack a holdall and run screaming from the house, without a backward glance. Never to return. Everything feels temporary now. Nothing seems permanent and it all feels so fragile - and breakable.
I've become self obsessed.
And this is a pretty embarrassing confession to make.
We've all got friends or family members who literally cannot even contemplate that the world doesn't revolve around them and what they are doing.
We love them and we cosset them and we allow them to believe that they are the universe's centre, all done with a wry smile and a fond shake of the head.
But I now find myself in a position where I too have become self obsessed and am all consumed with me.
How ridiculous! What on earth has happened?
But try as I might, I cannot seem to get through this challenge to put me back where I was - confident, happy but a bit of a worrier.
The only thing I can muster these days is the worry.
I smile occasionally, I even laugh sometimes.
But the confidence has slipped.
It is currently lying on the floor in a heap. As if it has been out on a hard drinking session and has only just made it back home. Unable to make it up the stairs to bed, it just lay on the floor. Its coat is half off. Its skirt is tucked into its knickers. Its blouse has a red wine stain and something a bit suspect down the front. Its carefully straightened hair has got wet and dried frizzy and now sports a little bit of sick in it and its lipstick is smeared over its face. Its tights are ripped and one of its shoes is lost. The contents of its handbag are strewn around it. Its purse lingers on the back seat of the taxi which drove the long route home. And the house key remains in the lock on the outside of the door which is still half open despite the cold weather. It's going to take some time for the life to get back into Confidence and when it does, it is going to have a very bad headache.
So what can I do to help poor Confidence get back onto its feet? I can but offer it time and a bit of TLC and just wait until it is back on form.
And until it is ready, I just have to wait because I just don't know what else to do.
Monday, 7 January 2013
New year and new start
It's now the year 2013. And this year feels like a momentous year.
The reason? Well unbeknown to me, all of last year I was waiting. I was waiting for my second and final dose of the Big A. I didn't realise that I felt like I was carrying a weight. My life felt on hold until I had the treatment. And now I have had it. And I feel free.
Weirdly it feels a little scary to be free and not having the excuse of an upcoming treatment to blame my woes and my reluctance and my hesitancy on.
It feels a bit like I am leaving home for the first time with the MS nurse becoming my mother patting me on the head and saying: "Off you go child, make your way. You father (neurologist) and I have provided you with everything we can. Now it is your turn."
I admit I rebelled in the first few weeks after the second Big A. I became a petulant child and took delight in telling anyone and everyone how hard life was for me. Slamming the fridge door in a Kevin-the-teenager kind of way grunting: "It's so UNFAIR!"
Shocked family and friends who I have always shielded from the real truth of how I feel about having MS were gobsmacked at the venomous truth which I answered their well meaning questions on how I was feeling that day.
And then all of a sudden and with considerable relief, I felt calm again.
I disliked the rage and the frustration and the ball of fury which had taken over my being.
I'm now back to being me.
But the anxiety lingers about the future. I realise this is because I have focused only on getting the second dose of the Big A and haven't really thought further than that.
So new year and new start.
I've been given a chance at a relatively-free MS life so I need to grasp it and crack on. I've got to make the most of this thing.
And I am going to.
The reason? Well unbeknown to me, all of last year I was waiting. I was waiting for my second and final dose of the Big A. I didn't realise that I felt like I was carrying a weight. My life felt on hold until I had the treatment. And now I have had it. And I feel free.
Weirdly it feels a little scary to be free and not having the excuse of an upcoming treatment to blame my woes and my reluctance and my hesitancy on.
It feels a bit like I am leaving home for the first time with the MS nurse becoming my mother patting me on the head and saying: "Off you go child, make your way. You father (neurologist) and I have provided you with everything we can. Now it is your turn."
I admit I rebelled in the first few weeks after the second Big A. I became a petulant child and took delight in telling anyone and everyone how hard life was for me. Slamming the fridge door in a Kevin-the-teenager kind of way grunting: "It's so UNFAIR!"
Shocked family and friends who I have always shielded from the real truth of how I feel about having MS were gobsmacked at the venomous truth which I answered their well meaning questions on how I was feeling that day.
And then all of a sudden and with considerable relief, I felt calm again.
I disliked the rage and the frustration and the ball of fury which had taken over my being.
I'm now back to being me.
But the anxiety lingers about the future. I realise this is because I have focused only on getting the second dose of the Big A and haven't really thought further than that.
So new year and new start.
I've been given a chance at a relatively-free MS life so I need to grasp it and crack on. I've got to make the most of this thing.
And I am going to.
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