What MS and shoeboxes have in common!
It just makes for unimaginable breakouts of sarcasm filled with Irish-sounding words of wisdom. In more politically correct grammar, I often feel like replacing myself with newly created brain cells to replace those that somewhere down the line, must have gone missing after being targeted by biological and chemical warfare.
The duality of MS
In ever memory of physical betrayal and every second of dislike of my illness, I am still intrigued by its complexities and continue to care for all its nuts and bolts.
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.
