Posts

MEMORIES

 Every little detail evoked memories of my time in the hospital. This encompassed everything from the television programs that aired in the hospital to the specific brand of soap that was utilized. It was as if each element served as a poignant reminder of that period. I can vividly recall the early mornings, when I would perch on the edge of my bed, gazing out the window. The sight of cars inching their way through the congested traffic in and out of town filled me with a sense of longing. Envy consumed me as I yearned for a sense of normalcy, free from the shackles of illness. I often found myself daydreaming about the day I would finally be discharged and allowed to return home. Perhaps I would engage in a meticulous observation of the various vehicles – cars, trucks, and buses – passing by, seeking solace in the mundane details to alleviate the monotony of my confinement. At my disposal lay the script of my reality, awaiting the next act to unfold.Every minute detail triggered ...

STEPS

 Now this single term has been quite familiar to me. It transcends the mere calculations in Mathematics. It is an integral part of the daily existence of an individual diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. One might perceive it as a deliberate strategy, but in reality, it is an instinctive response that arises without conscious direction. Frequently, during activities such as grocery shopping or any mundane task, one inevitably finds oneself meticulously planning each step taken. Moving from the entrance of a building to the upcoming corner involves a mental calculation of the number of steps that can be managed before experiencing leg weakness or instability. At times, the situation deteriorates to the point where a respite from the prolonged walk becomes an urgent necessity. What appears to be a short stroll for an average individual transforms into an arduous journey for a person with MS.  Then there are the deliberate movements on a staircase. This particular aspect resonates...

RELAPSE

 "Lovely day, my dear,"I gently uttered to my niece as I bid her farewell at the school entrance. She tenderly waved her little fingers as I turned to make my way back home. The leisurely stroll back home would consume around five minutes, so I embarked on the journey without haste, braving the chill of the morning air. Merely a few steps into my walk, a sudden realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. 'Oh dear! I had neglected to bring along my niece's school bag and snack pack!' How could I have overlooked such a fundamental detail? Was my memory failing me? Just recently, I had forgotten her lunchbox, and now this slip-up? Unbeknownst to me, these lapses were likely a result of the memory issues associated with multiple sclerosis. 'It cannot be!' I vehemently reassured myself. There was no way I was succumbing to illness again. I had been in perfect health for the past year, so the notion of revisiting hospital visits seemed preposterous. To cut a...

PANIC ATTACK!

 If there's one lesson MS has instilled in me, it is the importance of taking pride in the meticulous details. Despite the extra time it may require, the sense of accomplishment upon completion is always gratifying. On a tranquil morning, I set out to tackle the chore of washing the dishes after breakfast. Although I knew it would be a more time-consuming task, I welcomed the opportunity with anticipation. To help boost my efficiency, I decided to play a playlist by The Script and found myself singing along to every song, my spirits soaring. However, in the midst of my harmonious reverie, I suddenly became aware of a disconcerting issue – my breathing felt strained. Startled, I ceased both my singing and dishwashing activities. It was evident that something was amiss with my respiratory system. 'Call my sister ' that was my first thought.  'Hello, I'm home alone and my chest is so tight...can't breathe well' I was in a panic, trying to take in deep breaths u...

LATE NIGHT

 Hi, my name is Lynnet and I am an MS (Multiple Sclerosis) warrior.Those were the closing words of my book, marking the commencement of a new chapter in my life with this condition. Do you recall Michael, the nurse whom I had envisioned as an angel? He proved to be a true savior during one of my severe MS flare-ups. Following my third Solumedrol infusion that night, I experienced an intense and inexplicable itching sensation on my arm. I writhed and tossed in bed, desperately seeking respite. What could possibly be causing this distressing sensation? Could it be the neuropathic pain I had read about? Was this its peculiar manifestation, inducing an overwhelming urge to tear at my own skin? Then Michael showed up during one of the rounds and told me to follow him to which I obliged.  Anything to distract me. We were seated at the nurse's station, devoid of steaming coffee to complement our conversations. Engrossed in dialogue, the world around us faded into oblivion. In that mo...