The MS blame game
Earlier this year, my right eye behaved erratically because of a significant amount of stress that led to ongoing optic neuritis. My eye doctor recommended several times that reducing stress levels as well as cutting back on laptop, smartphone and TV use would be beneficial.
Paper dreams
Have you ever wondered, “What exactly is my purpose on our little shining blue ball floating around in our vast universe?” Have you? Congratulations, so have I! It took me the better part of my teenage years to get to the stage where I thought, “Yes! Eureka! Yes, I found out what I am doing here!” Translated, it sounded more like this, “I know where I am going to live!” Part of the master plan that had been hiding in my unconscious mind had already been set in motion, albeit drifting rebelliously between my conscious and the harder to access unconscious level, before mischievously appearing again.
Injecting object
“The needle, so needed. The fluid, water of life. Not stopping my illness progressing, but slowing down relapses. MS, as always having more than one meaning, one more way of living it.”
Jammed filter!
I didn't dumb down, I just kinda go dumber depending on my physical state of being before regaining some speed again. My neuropsychologist pointed out that sometimes, my ability to handle particular mental tasks may skip the F1 pole position, but that brain training was a great way to stop the decline.
Balancing life and a chronic illness
Oh, you can bet I am willing, I am usually more than willing. When physical restraints curb your potential, you realise that you want so more from your own life, and out of your own reality. Life is moving forward outside your medically induced world, and you feel annoyed when healthy people don’t realise the worth of their bodies, their unused potential. It simply reminds you that being chronically ill sucks.
0% responsibility – 100% accountability
Today, I joke about not being perfect or about my mind behaving like a repetitive software update that refuses to stick after a few busy days. I may add that my bones rattle and that I have a Club Med-type relationship with three different hospitals, my primary care physician and my pharmacy. Or, I forget my name, fall asleep at fancy receptions, need an hour to cut three peppers and two onions and sometimes need to nag to myself to get things done.
MS and single on Valentine’s Day?
You can channel your inner delightfully, dazzling diva while wearing pyjamas, dog-shaped winter socks, leg warmers and your turban hair towel. You can drag your duvet to the living room, watch Romeo + Juliet and cry for an hour afterward because Leo died when he shouldn't have (Damn you William Shakespeare!)
