Valentine’s Day, just another chronically ill day
Ergo, XXL tracksuit sweater, leggings, and Ugg boots. The coif of the day, so to speak, because you're not expecting a past beau to walk in and wipe you off your feet (you can do all that yourself with MS balance issues that hit you hugging the floor). So, any beaus out there? You should've put a ring on it when you could've. Even Beyonce got so flustered she had to sing about it.
Life with MS: 17 years of ‘what the hell just happened?!’
Life goes on with all the good it can bring, and with goals I yet want to achieve, so I tolerate MS. There’s no resentment or blame, no more heartache, guilt or doubt.
Something woofin’ is coming!
Stay tuned!
OMG, we made it to 2020! Happy New Year!
This could be about new year's resolutions but the year is not ready yet to accept failure on my part!
A to Z of MS
You hear them each time you speak with your medical team: MS-related medical jargon can sound heavy and darken your thoughts. This list will be updated with easy to grasp terms, and if not, do not hesitate to send me a message.
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.
MS + 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.
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!)
Writing, a quiet observation
There is something about words, something fluid, warm, recognisable and true. Just a short while ago I was again reminded of my love for anything written, and how it more than likely, came to be. Early on in life, I was already a dedicated library-lover. Living above one eased the path towards it, and it definitely turned me into a bibliophile. Countless hours and days were spent walking around in it, searching and nurturing books. When my Dutch language teacher put me on the spot when I was 14 years old, he made me admit blame for a silly grammatical mistake in front of the whole class, asking me if I had any dictionaries at home, and if so, why they weren’t on my desk when I wrote that particular essay. While…
Relapse!
Yesterday I received an email from the Daily Post at WordPress that said ‘Competition: What activity, task, or game most brings out your competitive streak?’ Activity: having multiple sclerosis. Task: not going to bed when my body screams to should stop doing what I’m doing and make a triple Salchow backwards to land myself under my duvet instead. Game: enjoying life. Competitor: myself. It was an easy enough question to answer because I (still) consider myself my own worst competition, especially right now.