As I was lying sprawled on the gravel at work, still holding two (thankfully empty) coffee cups, I promised myself, ‘this time, it’ll be different.’
Rewind a day or so and the first inkling something wasn’t quite right came when I floated away.
I hate that feeling. I’m here, but not quite. It’s my relapse calling-card.
My hands played up, a grabbing-arcade-machine-gone-awol. I misjudged my steps, I tripped countless times and scuffed my brand new shoes. I was exhausted beyond belief. On Saturday, I literally could not get up off the sofa from 2pm til 9pm, despite all my efforts.
I was gripped by fear – fear that The Teenager would notice, fear that I couldn’t function, fear that I was immobile and couldn’t do a thing about it. So I lay there, invisible threads of absolute fatigue snapping into place all around me.
Late that evening, I finally managed to crawl into bed and collapsed.
Relapses, a spike in symptoms, an exacerbation, a blip, whatever it is when it comes to MS, whatever it’s termed, it’s dire and we don’t always need an MRI to prove it, although in my case they usually do.
I had a pocket of energy after work the other day, so ploughed my way through three lots of laundry, laid bark in the garden and cooked up a massive batch of chicken. I cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed the house, fed the cat, placed a food order, caught up with paperwork. I was dying inside but there was no alternative. After that, I collapsed.
I’ve learned to get one step ahead of a relapse. I hate being inactive on the sofa ( I hate my sofa so much it’s unreal). But I know it has to happen, no matter how much it kills me. I think if I can do everything possible, I will guarantee I’ll be able cope if something even worse happens in the next few days. It’s the ‘Single Parent With MS’ Dilemma. But at least the laundry’s done, and the t-shirt that makes The Teenager’s muscles really stand out is fresh and ready to wear. It’s priorities.
Back to the gravel. I lay stunned. The boss shouted down to me from the roof he was working from. My body had taken a huge whack and the pain was immense.
I had to get up. And you know what? I did. And for that I will be forever grateful as not all of us with MS could say that. So, as long as I’m able, I will treat relapses with the contempt they deserve.
Been there, done that …