Some of you blog readers may wonder why I refer to the blog as "Musings of a Mad Sow". No, I don't think of myself as an angry pig, though, honestly, if I gain any more weight...
No, it's all about Denny Crane on Boston Legal. Right before I was diagnosed, I got hooked on the show, particularly enjoying when Denny would say something completely irrational and then gesture to his head and say, "Mad Cow", as if that explained everything.
One of the signs of MS in me was the loss of the barrier between my interior and exterior monologue. You know, that inner voice that says inside your head, "This guy is a jerk", while on the outside you smile sweetly and say all the right things.
I was in management, so my straight talking almost led to me being escorted off the property
It was quite agonizing, really. I'd realize that my mouth and brain had betrayed me and try to retrieve or patch things up, but often it was simply too late. So, since MS had the right initials, I decided to try to redirect my mouth by pointing to my head and saying "Mad Sow".
Oh how I wish it would work.
For the most part, now that I am less stressed and have slept adequately, my mouth is under better control, but it's not anywhere near perfect. I am much more intolerant of foolishness than I used to be formerly and need to remind myself that being part of any bureaucracy is NOT a good plan. And yet somehow I keep ending up being part of them.
And my mad sow keeps putting her little hooflet in.
Like many of us with invisible disease, my physical symptoms are small - except for numbness and an inability to walk further than a block or so. But the mental ones are glaring, at least to me.
I was "gently reared" as they say, and I cringe at being thought rude. My dad didn't raise me that way. But wherever those lesions nestle, they've liberated my tongue and tied up my Miss Manners. Maybe I need to follow that old African tale and dig a hole and yell my true feelings into it. Maybe then the sow would be appeased.