Raindrops keep falling on my head....

Sometimes this MS thing is simply magical. It's trippy. It keeps me guessing.
I know I'm going through a flare up - hey, it's been the story of my past months - legs not working right, balance off, the usual. Had a mammogram and didn't feel a thing (blessings!).
And the other night, I took the dog out for a walk late in the evening. I didn't realize it was raining, so I went out in shorts and shirt and no raincoat. Chutney went off to do his thing and I realized I was getting wet - but not feeling it - my skin was gradually feeling colder, and about every few seconds I'd feel a cold prickling on one spot or another on my arm or leg, but overall, I couldn't feel the rain at all. I felt like I was enclosed in a bubble, safe from the rain, though my hair was starting to drip a bit and my glasses were freckled.
So magical!
Of course, there are unhappier things to total numbness, but sometimes, sometimes, the beauty of the strangeness of this disease overcomes me. I hope the feeling will come back one day, but while it's gone, it's kind of cool.
Time for that tattoo I keep talking about.

Swing low, sweet chariot...

Whew. These mood swings do lay a girl low. I'm already hepped up on antidepressants and yet I sink, lower than a frog's belly. Nothing tastes of anything to me. Music bores me. Sex is uninteresting (well, I'm numb, so, what do I expect?). Even the thought of a hot bath is too much.
I find myself oversensitive, tired of speaking to people, yet hungry for company and distraction. My body aches. I want chocolate but can't taste it.  I want wine, but it has no flavour.
It would all make me quite desperate except that I know it's just another sneak attack from the MS - I've been having more difficulty with my balance and my walking, so I know something sinister is afoot, and I expect the darkness in my soul is just a part of that.
I'm hoping to avoid the incontinence thing - it's a rare problem but when it occurs I am desperate beyond measure. I live in dread of wandering about, smelling vaguely of pee, yet I know when and if it does happen, I'll just have to dig deep and keep going on. Like those books that are proliferating everywhere that say "Keep calm and carry on". Or "Eat cupcakes and carry on", which I prefer. I might be able to taste a cupcake.
I know a woman who has terminal cancer. She's not in pain yet, she knows she is going to die soon. She is the most cheerful person I know - handles it all with aplomb, is kind and sweet to all, is the sort of woman who says I love you to her spouse 10 times in one phone conversation. I'm trying to learn from her, as I pray for her. I wish I had her jollies.
Ah, I'm probably just pooped from entertaining folks. And other, grimmer events. I'm sure it will pass, because I just heard a seagull scree outside my window and I had to step out into the cool night and feel the breeze on my skin. I can feel little cheery sunshine lines springing up from my heart. they're faint, as yet, and if I let myself think over the events of today, I'll squash them out. So instead, a cup of tea, some mindless entertainment, and early to bed - and the hope for a sunshinier tomorrow. It's about time for this roller coaster to head up again.

Cheeriness, or how not to constantly spit

Today I arrived at church with my dress on inside out. I knew it was a bad day, that I wasn't fully functional, but that's the first time that had happened.
Totally shrinkingly embarassing. So I laughed and made light of it, joked about my drunken walk to communion (my balance is off, too) but one has to wonder what people think.
Sigh.
So  try to laugh and be amusing but inside I am curling into myself and wishing I could vanish.
I'm just waiting for the moment I become incontinent and don't realize it. Hoo hah.
But I'm sure I'll make a joke out of it.