Being funny...

I was at a MS support group the other day and joking in that graveyard way a lot of us with MS have about the changes in the disease, the weird things that go on, the humour in our everyday challenges. It seems to me that a lot of us with MS have that kind of humour - there isn't much that can be done for the disease, so we may as well laugh and get on with things. As we can, lurching merrily about and etc, dropping things, wobbling here and there...

But one lass took exception to our joking about.  She was seriously upset about MS and felt we weren't taking things with the right sense of gravitas. She was right.  We weren't. Right then.

MS is so often invisible because we don't get seen when we are down and out.  We go to ground, we hide at home, we don't answer the phone, we rarely speak.  We deal with our sorrows and losses privately, knowing that there is a limit on what we can expect friends to tolerate, that daily complaints just bring us down, that our private struggles don't make for good press.  The disease doesn't go away, it doesn't get better, we aren't "fighting" it like one does with cancer (because fight as we might, we can't beat it).  It becomes boring to share. Even a disease like MS that changes every day can become same old, same old.
This doesn't mean we don't spend several days of our lives destroyed by grief, or struggling to get anything done, or depressed to black.

When we get together, we share our challenges, but we also have a good laugh.  People who don't deal with this chimera of a disease don't understand what we go through, and it feels so good to laugh with those who can nod and add to the joking. It helps. Like this drawing by Bill Watterson, seeing others laugh can't help but make you smile.

So I say, let's laugh, giggle, snort, guffaw, and hoot this disease into the corner as often as we can.  It will creep out again, but let's enjoy our sorrow-free moments.  Let's wallow in them.

Running with MS

Just read a series of transcripts on the national MS Society Website, with Dr. Kalb and Clay Walker, the C&W singer, who has MS, discussing adapting to MS . Not earth shattering, but the following quote interested me - it speaks to how I try to deal with this disease, and why I wince at all the people who say "I have MS, it doesn't have me." How they can say this when MS can pick them up in its gargantuan fingers and shake them about whenever it wants, I dunno. For me, I know that MS has me, and has changed my life forever in ways nice and not so nice.

Here's the quote from Richard Cohen, a person with secondary-progressive MS. He says, “But with any progressive disease like MS, the moment is going to come where you feel overtaken by it. It was time to stop running from it and start
running with it. I just reached a point where I had to admit it was a part of me and part of who I am."

Yep. That's the way I feel. I feel as if I and MS are a somewhat unwilling team pulling this body of mine about. Sometimes I misbehave, sometimes the MS does. We are both interested in going forward, but we might differ about the direction.
When we are running together, I feel almost normal. But I am always aware that I depend on the cooperation of my MS to continue. As it depends on my cooperation - eating well, resting enough, looking after myself, exercising....

Unless my MS is feeling mischievous that day. Then it doesn't matter what I do - my MS will play about and bring me interesting sensations, experiences, challenges.
Keeps it interesting at any rate. And fortunately we share a sense of humour.

laughter, or tickling the hypothalamus

This weekend, laughter has been bubbling through my brain, spilling out in crackly mylar-sounding bits, dredging itself up from the base of my lungs. My son has been visiting, and I think I've had more belly laughs this weekend than I have in months, bless his furry little hide. And a friend just called me and gave me an opportunity to laugh out loud again, so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my mouth for fear of deafening him.
I cherish the power of laughter and those that share it with me. I've always been known for my laugh, sometimes told I laugh too much, told people know where I am because they hear my laugh. How much more wonderful is that than being known for a sharp voice, a temper, a sad face, clicky shoes?
I've been on a longish, sad journey of late, and this laugh holiday has been so wonderful. I feel rested, renewed, ready for the world again, all through the healing power of a ha.
I recommend it highly.
(oh, and see Monsters and Aliens to get started)