"I have MS but it doesn't have me…"

What a load of malarkey.
Every time I hear this or read some cheery news about how wonderful life with MS is, I want to scream. Really loudly.
Except that I can't because I'd like to accomplish something tomorrow and extremes of emotion exhaust my fried nerves.
It's not that I'm not grateful. Honestly. If I had to have a chronic debilitating disease, MS is at least amusing. It changes and wobbles and is completely unpredictable. It makes every morning an exciting trip of "can I feel this" and "can I stand up without falling over?" and "will I need to nap half the day today?" It's exciting.
But it also sucks, absolutely.
I am tired of trying to live normally only to be hit upside the head with a flare-up or a sudden inability to do math or fatigue so intense I can't get myself out to buy milk, let alone do anything else.
I used to be a can-do type of gal, taking things on and throwing them about, accomplishing three things with my right hand while juggling another two with my left. I could multi-task. I could work with music on in the background
Now I find myself typing okay with one hand while the other lolls about and goes on strike or types at a different speed. My brain packs up and wanders off at odd moments and words go walkabout.
Most of the time I'm fine.
But I can't predict it, see. When my brain goes out on me, it's a sudden thing. I become exhausted in a moment, crash and burn.
And so I find myself limiting my activities, withdrawing from things, gradually detaching myself from positions of responsibility, backing off, choosing things that can be cancelled in a heartbeat.
So, I have MS, and yes, it does have me. By the throat.

I'd like you to meet....uhmmm...

You've got to love MS. It's like a constant game of "Who's on First?" One day, the legs aren't so good. The next day, for some reason, I can recall words (and whomp a friend in scrabble) but can't add up the scores (hmm. Perhaps did not whomp after all..) The next day, I turn to one of my best friends to introduce her to an acquaintance and forget her name so completely that I don't even have the first idea of what it is. No initial, nothing.
Fortunately, everything doesn't yet hit at once, so I can still smile with my facial muscles and pretend it doesn't matter.

Yeah, yeah, everyone says this happens with age, etc. But I'm not old. 50 is NOT old. I am but a young lass, still yearning to grow. Just not sure what grow means in this context.

Actually, I feel a bit like chickweed. I grow in all sorts of wiggly areas, trying this and that, attempting new skills like learning Spanish, following old paths like walking, but with a new angle (literally!). It's an adventure, and yet I still feel I have some power to cover the earth before the killing frost.

Life can be good, as long as I have understanding friends about me. Just don't ask me to remember your names!

Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain

Listen, listen to the falling rain...
It was such a quiet day here today - just me, the mists outside, the cheeps of startled birds being hit by unexpected showers, the plink of raindrops on my downspouts, the tick tick of the drops hitting my windows. Soothing soothing silence. We forget, I think, the beauty of that silence.
I put music on some of the day, watched some youtube, but most of the day the loudest sound came from my clock, it's pendulum swinging endlessly to and fro. My brain, frazzled and shortcircuiting from pain yesterday and today and from exhaustion from pain, eased into itself like a snuggly comforter. It needed this - I had a conversation with a friend and could barely get the words to exit my mind - they were lost in the back somewhere, difficult to retrieve. Another gift from MS...
I'm off for a cup of Sleepy Time Tea and a warm bath before I nestle back into bed. The rain is still falling, gently, outside. It makes inside feel safe, warm, healing.