Raining roses

close up photo of wooden scrabble tiles near heart
Photo by Ylanite Koppens on Pexels.com

Back after a much-needed break from writing. There were doctors’ visits and hospital waiting rooms, a very slow stroll through Dublin Zoo as well as lots of sleep and trying to lose weight before the Christmas holidays arrive. Friends came and went, and books were tossed aside after reading half a page. On a more exciting note, I ended up on writing.ie, the home of Irish writing online.

I finally convinced myself to stop and take stock with the words “Being this overly, mentally busy doesn’t work for me anymore,” because deep down I knew I had arrived in Klutz Central. KC truly is the final destination and home of being unable to gather and store new information while having the energy levels of a sloth on Valium.

As quiet as I was, bored I was not. The mental wheels kept on turning. Pragmatically, I knew I was heading for a crash into that massive, inattentive and awful wall of near-narcolepsy. Giving myself the silent treatment never felt so good and my bed became my fortress of dreams, coffee and just… plain… old-fashioned… sleep.

Adversity is something I never give in to, and I was and still am determined and motivated to keep up the silent treatment for as long as I need to. Rewards for staying in bed all day are non-existent, for you will only get a minuscule piece of energy back. Time to stop pushing yourself and start listening to what your body is telling you is therefore key. Time to smell the roses while you can.

So, while I am once again walking slowly due to a renewed Achilles tendon injury, trigeminal neuralgia and serious bouts and urges of sleep, I need to keep on smiling, even though that doesn’t work very well because of facial pain.

But, as it happens, I have a little bit of positivity left, so anyone in need of some… here you go!


©Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2013. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Quirky, tenacious and neurologically compromised female expat living in Ireland since 2002 ◾ IRELAND BLOG AWARDS WINNER - BEST BLOG POST 2018 with '3443 Needles' ◾ Ireland Blog Awards Finalist 2014, 2015, 2017 ◾ MyTherapyApp Best MS Blog for Simplicity 2018 ◾ Everyday Health Top 10 MS Blog of 2018 ◾ Feedspot Top 50 MS Blog 2017, 2018 ◾ Contributor to the Teva MS blog Life Effects ◾ Contributor to the Novartis MS blog Living Like You ◾ Contributor to MS Ireland’s blog MS & Me ◾ Contributor to The Mighty ◾ Guest contributor to MyTherapyApp.com ◾ WEGO Health Patient Leader Award Nominee 2018

4 thoughts on “Raining roses

  1. Glad to see you pop in! I read that piece on writing.ie – nicely done and you described things that I would have said, so I’ll bet many others will relate to it also. And…nice to meet you face-to-face! Take care of yourself so you can get back here with words. Colleen

    1. Thanks Colleen! And another thank you for reading the Writing.ie article, I really appreciate it, Mind you, I opt for contact lenses 99.5% of the time though, this picture was taken without me realising there was a camera in front of me :D)

  2. Listen to your body! I actually do do as I say, walk the walk and talk the talk, most of the time. I know what happens if I don’t. I feel I have lost a large part of this year just having to rest, but would have lost way more (and probably been at the bottom of the pit, unable to crawl out) had I not kept being sensible! By building in frequent rest periods, I am then able to do something for short periods, rather than nothing at all! way to go! I am the person who is happy that thorn bushes have roses (MS or not)… :)

    1. I’m great in telling myself to rest, doing so is another matter altogether. Sometimes I am OK for listening, but only when pain and fatigue is increased big time. At this stage, I need to literally run dry of energy, unable to keep talking or walking. Why are we so damn stubborn?! :D)

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