Category Archives: Daily Life

Sep 19 2013
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Daily Life

Wardrobe Malfunction

Bella EmbergSo the great news is I’ve been shortlisted for an MS Society Award and the ceremony will be held at The Dorchester in October.

The bad news is the ceremony will be held at The Dorchester in October. October! Four weeks today to be precise.

I have been googling ‘Drop A Tonne of Weight in 28 Days’, but short of swallowing a tapeworm, I’ve resigned myself to looking more like Bella Emberg from the Roly Polys (see left) than Cara Delevingne’s frumpy cousin.

Steroids, fatigue and a complete sense of inertia have conspired to pack on the weight over the last two years. I hold my hands up (hang on, let me just put my Cheezy Puffs down), it’s my fault too. When your whole world is falling apart, what’s a box or two of Maltesers going to add to it? And that lovely creamy Greek yoghurt with added honey just sweetens the bitter pill.

The phrase ‘I have nothing to wear’ has never been more apt. Problem number one – flat shoes – how to look suitably glamorous in them? Even if I could squeeze myself into a beguiling little cocktail number, surely the effect would be ruined without even a tiny heel?

A friend helpfully suggested I should forget all about wearing a dress and choose a smart trouser suit instead. And invest in a head-to-toe Spanx bodysuit. And have one of those miracle weight-loss treatments three hours before, where you get wrapped up in clingfilm and covered in towels. Hmm. I would quite possibly faint from MS heat intolerance and spend the ceremony lying comatose across three chairs in the nearest A&E.

Problem number two – how to look glam in a trouser suit without looking like I’m going to a job interview? Problem number three – how to not stumble/drop food down myself/smash a glass during the event. Do you think they’d mind if I took one of my plastic wine glasses along? And a bib?

You can see why I’m a bit worried. And not only that, when I asked The Teenager what he’d be wearing, he mumbled, ‘hoodie, innit, but don’t stress, I’ll wear my smart trainers’. Ye gods.

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Sep 13 2013
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Daily Life

Things Ain’t What They Used To Be….

if you can't stand the heatFor the last two years I seem to have been lying low, coping with everything MS had to throw at me.

I didn’t realise just how much the parameters of my life had altered until I went to London on Monday.

I wasn’t particularly worried beforehand – I’d lived and studied there for a couple of years, I loved the buzz, the people, the sheer energy the city pulsed with. So I trotted off, took my seat on the train and prepared to reignite my passion for the city.

The first inkling things weren’t quite the same as before happened seconds after disembarking at Paddington. Where had all these people come from? Oi, why did you just barge in to me? Where did I put my ticket? Help.

I was swept along by an unforgiving tide of people to the tube station, buffeted from all sides, whimpering, with panic levels going through the roof. What was wrong with me? I used to do the exact same journey with a howling baby, pram and suitcase in tow.

My legs had turned to jelly, my face was bright red with stress and heat as I tried to quell the rising anxiety. I collapsed on to a seat in the tube train, a chattering bunch of Italians clutching maps and water bottles swaying into me every couple of seconds.

After my meeting (which was brilliant), I did the reverse journey in the same disheveled state. I needed to get home. By teleportation if possible. Or helicopter. Over lunch before getting back on the Cardiff train, I discussed this with my friend. ‘I don’t understand!’ I wailed, picking at my fish and chips in a ye olde English pub. Had I really changed that much? Out of my five-mile radius comfort zone, it appeared I had. Gone was my fearlessness and energy. I knew my energy levels weren’t the same as before, but had they really plummeted so low?

Finally, I made it home. I was a mess. Every nerve was trembling, I was exhausted and mentally shattered. It took me a whole day off work to recover, where I hid at home, coming to terms with what had happened. Reality smacking me right in the face.

I’m shocked. I knew things were bad, just not that bad.

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Aug 27 2013
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Daily Life

Groundhog Day

groundhog dayI was away at the weekend with The Teenager and a friend, who came with me only on the condition that he could watch Formula 1 (yawn).

To pass the ho-hum time away, I read the newspapers and amused myself by reading bits out to him as he tried to concentrate on men in leather onesies going round and round and round in little cars.

– ‘I didn’t know Richard Pryor had MS, did you?’

– ‘Nope. Shhh. They’re on the 27th lap.

– ‘Bored.’

– ‘Shhh. Anyway, you’ve got MS, what’s the big deal?’

Of course. I completely forgot I had MS. Weird. I’d like to say it’s because I’m in rude health, but it’s probably more likely that all my symptoms have now been fully assimilated into my life and it’s just…normal?

This happens most days and it’s like a short, sharp shock every single time I remember. A bit like mornings when The Teenager was a newborn and it’d dawn on me that I was A Mother. I’d lie there, waiting for him to start yelling (never took long) and wonder why on earth the maternity unit actually let me leave the hospital with him. When they told me I was free to leave, I looked at the baby then back at them, asking, ‘seriously? He’s so….um, so, kind of small?’ ‘Yes love, babies generally are. Now, be a dear and shut the door behind you.’

Will this groundhog day ever end? Of course I know I have MS. My legs, arms and brain tell me. Or is this actually a good thing? Have I come to a point of quiet acceptance? I mean, I still chuckle when I realise I’m a mother to a teenager. Me? Really? I feel like I was one myself only a few years ago.

Or as The Teenager says, ‘mum, if you say ‘totes’ one more time and keep reading Heat magazine, I’ll get you a subscription to Women’s Weekly for your Christmas.’

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Aug 14 2013
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Daily Life

Business As Usual…

made in 1973Well there goes another birthday and I have now well and truly entered my fifth decade.

The candles on my cake took an embarrassingly long time  to blow out even with the help of The Teenager, fire extinguisher at the ready just in case. I was half-expecting the Birthday Fairy to present me with wisdom and maturity befitting my advanced years, but sadly it seems I’m off her list for now.

The Teenager had promised to set his alarm for 6.30 and make me breakfast in bed (probably a pot of yoghurt and a glass of milk – he seems incapable of working the toaster or kettle), but by 8 I shook him awake, starving and eager to open my birthday cards. My mantlepiece is now festooned with helpful reminders of my age, just in case MS cog fog made me forget.

As my official Big Birthday Bash isn’t till the end of the month, I spent the evening indulging myself in a 5-step ‘youth-boosting’ home facial. This included exfoliation, a time reversal face mask, firming youth serum, a lift and brighten eye complex (complex? Huh?) and finally a-stop-the clock moisturiser. The instructions suggested that ‘for the ultimate spa experience, light a fragranced candle and have some gentle music playing’. I didn’t have a scented candle, so I sprayed lavender air freshener around and instead of music, The Teenager was watching the Ashes highlights up loud.

After I had applied the final blob of moisturiser, I rushed to the mirror, hoping to see all 58 signs of ageing erased and a 20-year old version of myself staring back at me. Disappointment is below an understatement. Instead of baby-soft skin, I was greeted with a bright red face punctuated by two dots where my eyes normally are. Sigh. To help me over the shock, I had a third slice of birthday cake and a(nother) cheeky glass of wine.

I always expect significant birthdays to be like New Year’s Eve. At the stroke of midnight, I will be magically transformed into a brand-new, shiny person, leaving the baggage of the previous years behind me, like a rom-com film made real. That didn’t happen, so I waited til 8.04pm, the time I was actually born (spinning it out, yup). And? Nope, nothing. I’m still the same old me. I guess it’s up to me to make the magic happen…..

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Aug 02 2013
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Daily Life

Busy Doing Nothing

nothing happenedI’ve had a very productive week doing very little except recovering from Campath.

You need to put in a lot of preparation work to do nothing. First up, food. I’ve spent hours on the computer putting together a shopping list for Ocado home delivery to save me the hassle of going to the shops.

With a brain functioning at less than zero, it was a Herculean task. I also Blame The Brain (TM) for the abundance of snacks and chocolate that found their way into my virtual basket and the lack of proper, grown-up things such as leafy green vegetables and washing up liquid.

Next, The Teenager. Unlike me, he’s had a busy week doing an awful lot and needs frequent cash injections and food (see above point). He’s also keeping me ‘entertained’ with a detailed breakdown and analysis of the upcoming football season, so I’ve had to try and concentrate as he throws in random pop quizzes to check I’ve been listening.

Then there’s the cat. She also wants feeding. On Tuesday, her Go-Cat crunchy biscuits didn’t quite fill the gap so she brought in a barely-alive bird and dropped it at my feet. I screamed, she ran away with the poor thing and proceeded to eat it, head first, outside my window, casting me triumphant glances as she munched away.

I am also not studying, not doing any housework, not getting rid of the cobwebs (18 and counting, plus two large, dead spiders spinning around, eww). I am busy lolling on my sofa, reading trashy magazines and watching trashy telly. This keeps me occupied for hours and hours, leaving no time to just do nothing. To break the monotony, I went with the boss to Ikea the other day to look at kitchens. I’ve never been one to turn down free meatballs.

I did nothing much at Ikea either but on my way through the Market Hall, I picked up a lamp I didn’t really need. Ikea does strange things to the mind. It’s virtually impossible to leave without buying anything, even if it’s just a 60p hotdog or a dustpan and brush set.

So that’s been my week. Next week I’m planning to do more of the same. It might look like I’m doing nothing but I’m rushed off my feet…

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