Why I should be a brainiac, but I’m not
It happened again. Just when I attempted to maximise my brain, it decided to take over and run the show. It’ll be fun, it said. But, it was so not pretty. Not even by a long mile. With so much physical pain and hence collected a fair amount of neurology-related knowledge due to life with MS, I should be a brainiac. Yet, I am not.
Do I have stupid written on my forehead?
Can you recall what life was like before this craziness started? Nope? Neither can I. There is a bit of mental derailing going on right now. Fatigue is back with a vengeance. I am so excellent in not sleeping well, that when I do, it’s a reason to organise a party, or rather, a pyjama gala. Sponsored by MS. And it’s undoubtedly impacting my thinking. No, seriously, having MS is not a simple task, job or status. It’s always there, in the background. Or in the limelight. In the shower. In bed.
Conversations with myself
Nevertheless, positivity, when faced with chronic illness, is not a cure. It never will be. That doesn’t mean I can’t slander myself, right? Hitting the nerve, as it were. If my central nervous system is allowed to hit me, I am as authorised to hit back. Three times over.
Dissecting words
“Billie… smile!” “Billie, this is a business company, not the beach!” “Oh Bee, you’re such a bad dancer!” “It must be great being on sick leave so much; it’s like being on a long holiday!” “Look at her, Monday morning and still drunk!” These sentences might just be background noise to some, but to a person with a neurological illness, those words can cut like tiny slithers of glass.
Contrary!
“You’re just being contrary!” my mum used to say. I think that from a young age, she must have found me indeed, a bit different than other kids my age. I wasn’t rebellious, in fact as a teen I was anything but rebellious, but you might say that I went through the usual girly teen behaviour so many of us poor women went through. I fell in and out of love with pop stars, loved singing and dancing and enjoyed an outdoor lifestyle with many of my friends. Perhaps my generation was the last one to grow up without mobile phones, without game consoles to play bowling without the actual ball and tennis without being on a tennis court.
Ten Irish quirks
Ah, the idiosyncrasies of Ireland… they are everywhere if you open your eyes. After living in Ireland for 10 years and almost 6 months, I still find new ones! Pedestrians waiting to cross the road and staring at the little red man to go green… only tourists do so. You can spot who is a tourist by the look on their faces when they see Irish people dodge the traffic and jump in front of oncoming traffic. We’re a risk-taking kind of society! The sad and confusing look on the faces of said tourists when, upon arrival in Dublin city, they spot a tall building bearing the name ‘Heineken’ instead of ‘Guinness’ on O’Connell Bridge. Despite the huge economy Guinness brings to Ireland, you are confronted by ‘Heineken’ first and…
My tired is tired
Yep… right now I am one hell of a great example of how MS can just snap you right back to when you were first diagnosed, hence the large picture stating that very fact. Remember the days where you were just bed-ridden with lots of symptoms not making sense, and pain that kept you up day and night, no matter how tired you were? How so? Well, last week my body was half-fried under the sun in temperatures of 35°C. Microwave temperatures sizzling my body from the outside in, although it felt like I was roasted from the inside out. I still feel like a walking advert for Kentucky Fried Chicken… minus the Kentucky mind you. And the chicken.
