6:00 A.M... Eyes flutter open to the whines of my dogs, and I think for a moment....maybe it is gone, turning to reach for man's best friend,....muscles constrict, pain upon pain....no...it is still with me, my new constant companion.
8:00 A.M... For a few moments, just out of the shower I actually feel...okay! I'll gladly take okay. The fog has lifted, well a little anyway. I stumble for the right words to describe to my husband that I need the dryer. Pointing in the general direction and saying "The thing!" I see frustration on my own face in the mirror, somehow he knows what I mean.
10:00 A.M... Work is slow, thankfully. What would I do if it were busy?!? Suddenly, it hits me again, hard this time, the dizziness that comes from somewhere behind my eyes and deep in my brain. Can't focus, eyes moving without my consent. I sit for minutes with head down, down on my desk. I am reminded that we used to do this in grade school as kids. I think we did it when we were being punished. Am I being punished?
2:30 P.M... Going home, need rest. Luckily I have a good job and an understanding boss. I can leave when I want or need to. After the dizziness I usually get a headache, really that is not an accurate description. Too generic. How can one explain the explosion going on inside my head and the utterly hopelessness, maddening tiredness. Right down to your bones. Feet dragging like the ghost in Mr. Scrooge with the weight tied to him, moaning and groaning forever and ever. This can't be my life.
6:00 P.M... Three hour nap and a I awaken to still tired and the sound of kids playing in the June evening air outside my window. I am 38 years old and I live like I am 85. I hear them running and playing and tears well up. I am actually jealous of 6 years old.
8:30 P.M.... Reach into the refrigerator and pull out the cute little bottles of blue and white. Flash of memory, these are my wedding colors. How appropriate. The same colors that united me to my mate, now unite me to my hated monster companion. My husband vowed to never forsake me. He never will, I hope. Hope..., blue and white must be the color of hope.
9:30 P.M... Even after all this time, it is still difficult to take the shot. It's different when it is you. Someone else, hey that is easy as pie, but this...is me!! My husband winces when he sees me look scared. It stings, a lot this time and he says that is it. I can't do this to you. I can't hurt you. I tell him it is okay and we put the sacred objects back in the sanctuary and the ice is soothing. See it's not that bad. Only eleven thousand, six hundred eighty more to go*.
10:30 P.M... Used to be my bedtime when I was 13. Now I am so tired I couldn't even stay up to read the comics under the covers if I tried. And anyway, I think, I my husband would be worried if I did. After the shot, I feel so, ready to fight. Must be from getting hyped up to take it. This will not beat me. I will not go quietly. Tomorrow I will walk! Make myself! Three miles if possible. I am gonna lift weights too! And that book I am gonna write, starting it tomorrow. A vague poem in my head, from college, about time and making it run. I am gonna make it run and run scared? Just call me spot. Husband laughs a little, yeah, spot. Ironic isn't it? I have 2 or three very cerebral ones, see spot, see spot run. See spot lift weights. See spot leave this monster in the dust. Tomorrow, oh yes, tomorrow.
flower's note: *I take my shots (Copaxone) every day. I read somewhere that the average life span of a person with MS is 65 or 70. 70 minus 38 times 365 equals 11,680.My husband and I are now divorced, however, we continue to live together. We do not share a bedroom anymore, but do share a house together. He will always be here for me, as vowed, but we just couldn't be "together" as husband and wife anymore. We are great friends, just lousy marriage partners.
© 2001
