MS, you really have no idea of the damage you created when you left me on the ruins of your castle. In fact, Sigmund Freud once said "Anatomy is destiny." It is as unpredictable as it is varied, and in need of its own psychoanalysis.
I just didn't know, and frankly, I couldn't care less. A teardrop more or less wouldn't shake my world into either accepting or destroying neurodegeneration. Call me Waterloo so if you like. Neither the battle that took place when Napoleon Bonaparte lost face, nor the Eurovision ABBA song Waterloo could undo any hardship caused by the hands of MS. I've been told my dancing to ABBA tunes is rather epic though. My singing, not so much, so I gave up the dream of being a Eurovision song contest winner by age 6.
If you're like me, or you or a loved one who has multiple sclerosis and doesn't know where to hide from warm temperatures, below posts may help you find an answer.
Q: "Mmm… where did I hear that before because I know that I know it, only I don't know in which part of my brain I dumped it?" A: "I can't recall, so do forgive the cognitive malpractice of millions of fiery neural explosions lost on pathways made of concrete-coloured brain matter. It's not their fault." Footnote: While I make light of said idiocy in the upstairs chamber, I find it best to address it with a sense of musical humour. Hence, I sing 'Do I know or do I not?' sung on the song 'Should I stay or should I go' by the Clash.
Comparing the weather in Ireland to a three-seasons-in-one-day-affair is an understatement, and one that makes MS look like the butt of the joke when Uhthoff's symptoms will turn you into an attractive social media meme.
Life goes on with all the good it can bring, and with goals I yet want to achieve, so I tolerate MS. There’s no resentment or blame, no more heartache, guilt or doubt.
I became to view MS and trigeminal neuralgia as an illness so nonsensical and derogatory in nature. MS is one of the most confusing and least understood illnesses in the medical encyclopedia for the mere fact that it keeps moving the goal posts in the lives of every single person with MS.
Oisín in the meantime, looks at me like only puppies can. Either he sees me as an odd, MS-fatigued and pained two-legged Whippet mama, or as a modern Amelia Earhart whose flying skills need to be updated. Is it any wonder so I unconsciously seem to opt flying solo onto the floor to save physical energy?
Life insurance for people with multiple sclerosis is an essential part of your MS management, especially for those who have a partner and/or children to take care of.
It would have been a god-damn extraordinary 50 years if your heart and mind had been allowed to live.