Sensory MS symptoms: The hair that isn’t there

I have been in a fight with something that could be considered rather ghostly.

Why?

Because it’s back.

And it’s kinda freaky if you think about it.

I have hair that isn’t really there.

And, I have a noticeably short pixie hairstyle.

As in: shorter than the featured image on this post.

As in: much, much shorter.

As in: five millimetres longer than a military crew cut.

Either way, it’s as if there’s a fringe resting on my temple, but the left side of my face is as bare as a baby’s bottom.

In fact, the part of my body between my hairline and the outer corner of my left eye has a more energetic nature than the rest of me, and that is saying a lot. It’s like doing a Stephen Colbert account of Donald Trump, “Did you know, my temple is like so alive!”

You get the idea.

I sure do.

By now, you’ve grown accustomed to some of my outer worldly MS symptoms like the ice-picking in my eye, the bees in my ears or the whole-body buzzing when lying down.

Some girls just want to have fun.

I just want to stop being so blatantly weird.

Sensory symptoms in MS are nothing new. They arrive in all sorts of forms and reside for as long as they want. You may compel them to move on to other pastures new, but they’re not interested. To maintain a healthy relationship, I’ve grown used to them liking my body because I’m easy to tease and maybe, just maybe, hard to leave.

While you’re reading this, I’m writing and whacking the imaginary hair off my face again.

For the nth time today. If this goes on for another five hours, I will have to report myself for abuse of hair follicles.

The first few times, it felt as if I had cauliflowers growing on the side of my facade, and I scrubbed it so hard it looked like I ran into a freshly painted purply red door. Attaining relief this way didn’t release me from the dastardly teasing of my sensory system, though.

But I shouldn’t complain too much. This has been an ongoing thing for at least a decade, so I can boast we’ve been in a long-term engagement. A decade of tenderly wiping, whacking, teasing, or smashing the hair that is not there, I just try to get on with life.

You see, MS is as MS does. It simply taunts you in ways you cannot comply with by trying to scratch the itch, scrub the inside of your ears or rip your skin from your shins because it feels like you have ants running a marathon at the Olympics. Or, your face feels like rubber and your toes like they just had hot chilli for supper, and they are now tingling like mad. And, of course, you’ve been acquainted with my stabbing facial pain for a long time now.

In short, these altered sensations all amount to absolutely zero, zero, nada. They bring nothing to the table. They aren’t even caused by whichever part of your body they occur, as your brain is playing tricks on you.

If by now you’re feeling the same sensations I’ve been writing about, I will need to let you in on my plan of attack. Only, the attack-by-anti-itch-cream or attack-by-frozen-bags-of-peas may be furious before you fall asleep, but by morning, they are a mere hazy memory that is leaking ice water on your new mattress.

I am no Xena or Boudica.

In the meantime, I will keep on wiping the invisible hair off the left side of my face. I’m sure my pixie haircut agrees.

There are distinct types of altered sensations/sensory symptoms:

Allodynia: where something like a light touch feels painful, even though it shouldn’t cause pain.

Paraesthesia: an annoying, unusual sensation, like tingling or numbness, which may be triggered or happen spontaneously.

Dysesthesia: a more intense, sometimes painful, feeling which happens spontaneously.

Don’t forget to inform your neurological/MS team if or when your symptoms get out of hand. They can help you get on or off the right medicines or refer you to the correct physician.

First published on 18 April 2019, so yes, the imaginary hair is still there, despite having a crew cut hairstyle… Best Blog Post, Ireland Blog Awards by Ashville Media Group, Dublin, Ireland