Category Archives: My Ramblings

Dec 17 2012
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My Ramblings

The Future’s Bright?

I have had a very frustrating weekend. MS has been messing with my hands again – coffee grains have been flying, cups dropping from my hands and I just can’t get my eyeliner on straight. The foot drop is back too and  it looks like I’m doing a hoedown dance when I’m walking down the street. Most inelegant.

So when my friend mentioned that a good friend of hers was visiting, I jumped at the chance to pop over. Why? Well, he’s brilliant at reading tarot cards. Normally I take things like that with a hefty pinch of salt. Sure, I read my horoscope, and on the whole it’s quite accurate. But then I do a little test and read a different sign and that’s just as accurate too. Apparently this guy really is very good though. He is a professional businessman who just happens to have an extraordinary talent.

I was willing to give it a go. What questions would I want answered? Probably the same as everyone else – family, health and future prospects. I shuffled the pack, selected some cards and sat back. I won’t bore you with the finer points, but there are four separate readings with a different number of cards,  and the final reading is just a single card. One card came up in all four of my readings – the card of devastating transformation. Oh.

All the structures in my life have crumbled and fallen, there has been absolute chaos, fear and uncertainty. Life as I knew it is gone forever and it is up to me to rebuild it in a new way. Wow. He asked me if this meant anything to me. Er, yes? He also went into some detail which was quite astounding and not even my friend could have forewarned him, as I had never discussed those things with her. Spooky. All the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up and my hands were shaking more than usual.

I didn’t ask about my MS in the end. I don’t want to know how it’s going to progress, or not. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. I’m still a skeptic, but I’m mulling over what he told me. On the way home, I bought a scratchcard for luck. Did I win? Nope, not a bean….

 

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Dec 11 2012
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My Ramblings

If I Had to Write a Round Robin Letter….

Don’t you just dread these landing on your doormat at Christmas? A smug, boasting, hearty letter detailing every single thing that some random person you met years ago did over the last 12 months? Well, in the jolly spirit of Christmas, here’s one I would have sent, if I could have been bothered (abridged version):

Well hello there stranger!

What can I say, it’s been an awesome year for our little family. I have some sad news though. Our highly-talented mouse-catcher, Mr Snuffles passed away in January. We held a very moving and well-attended ceremony and he is now resting under the bush in the garden. The candle-lit vigil was just beautiful (picture attached!). To ease our grief, we adopted a new, gorgeous little tabby who has adjusted so well into our loving home!

The Teenager is doing brilliantly at school! We just don’t know how he manages to combine all that schoolwork with playing for both the rugby and football teams too! Phew! And where do kids get their appetites from?? He’s growing up so fast and I just can’t take enough photographs of all his incredible achievements. We’re running out of space for his trophies, and we just know  he’ll be playing rugby for the country soon – watch this space!

I have had a little health problem. It’s MS. You know, that celebrity illness – Jack Osbourne has it and we’re so proud of the spotlight he has shone on this for us. We’re in the company of giants! I’ve been resting up and taking it easy, but watch out world, when I’m back to my old self again – here I come!! I may just take up skydiving and firewalking, so watch out for the clips on YouTube. I’ll be famous! So keep this letter in a safe place, ha ha!

We also painted the bathroom this summer. Don’t Farrow & Ball do some stunning colours? We spent many a happy weekend choosing the best one and are so pleased with the result. I have had so many lovely compliments. And our toilet brush matches perfectly! As well as that, I am also still baking my legendary brownies and carrot cake – people just can’t get enough!

Well, I’ll wrap it up now. So, so sad we haven’t managed to meet up this year. Or last year. I’m just so blessed you can share in our awesome lives.

Merry Christmas y’all (My funny American relatives say this and I just think it’s the sweetest thing!!!)

XXXX

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Dec 07 2012
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My Ramblings

But You Look So Well…

hunchbackFive words guaranteed to raise the blood pressure of us ‘invisible’ MSers, ‘but you look so well’ is normally accompanied by a sharply raised eyebrow and a sceptical look. Obviously I’ve been making the whole sorry saga up and have accepted help and sympathy under false pretenses.

The meaning behind these words is stark. You said you were ill, but you’re clearly not. Go away, you attention-seeking drama queen.

I get asked to explain my symptoms. Dodgy balance, extreme fatigue, wonky hands, difficulty walking in a straight line, falling over. They nod then say, ‘well, at least it’s not cancer, eh, bet you’re glad it’s nothing more serious?’  Would it be ok to beat them about the head with my walking stick?  It’s got to be useful for something. There is an illness hierarchy and MS languishes somewhere near the bottom.

Sure, on the surface I do look fine, and since being diagnosed with MS, it’s important to me to still look my best. Adapting to the role of a ‘sick person’ has been a difficult transition and one I am still going through. Yet, for society to regard you as an ill person or a person with a disability, you need to conform to their expectations, otherwise you can just whistle for support.

I should stop washing, start wearing baggy-kneed leggings bought in bulk from Primark, rub chip-fat into my hair and under no circumstances dare to put even the merest hint of make-up on. I must give up work, apply to go on the Jeremy Kyle show and start hanging out in Poundland, spending my benefits on cheap junk food.

A well-meaning friend joked that MS fatigue is a pretty cushy symptom. You get to doss around on the sofa all day, doing nothing more taxing than changing the telly channel. What they don’t see is the fear, the anxiety and the utter terror of an uncertain future. MS is sneaky. It’s symptoms can strike at any time and there’s no set pattern. You can be chatting away in Starbucks, feeling quite normal, enjoying your latte when suddenly the cup drops from your hand. Or you can be walking along the street when your foot just drops from under you. Socially, MS is dire. It steals your confidence.

So if you see a person with MS looking well, just think of the effort they’ve made despite everything. And don’t mention the Poundland carrier bag full of Frey Bentos pies and Bacon Bite crisps…

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Dec 02 2012
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My Ramblings

Stuff The Turkey

I don’t mean to be a grinch. I love Christmas. I adore the idea of roasting chestnuts, drinking mulled wine and wandering round Christmas craft markets munching on a German Bockwurst. So with this in mind, why oh why, with my last bit of energy, did I venture to a massive supermarket yesterday to pick up some bits and pieces to complete my Christmas shopping?

The Teenager was bored, so he tagged along. I left him admiring the huge 3D television and went off, basket in hand. The store was heaving. Trolleys piled high with crisps, cider, tinsel and frozen meals came at me from nowhere. Whole extended families swarmed around every display and crammed every aisle.

We don’t do Christmas in Britain, we just do sheer, unadulterated tacky commercialism. I used to live in Europe and they’ve got the right idea there. Christmas is a gentle time, a time for families to gather together, a time for reflection and handed-down traditions. Decorations are restrained and tasteful. Sweets, cakes and gingerbread houses are homemade. They don’t get paralytic on cheap alcohol and 3-for-2 party food.

Back in the supermarket, boxes of toys were teetering in trolleys. Ever noticed the cheaper the toy, the larger the box? Kids were screaming, stamping their feet, the adults looking on indulgently. ‘See what Santa brings, eh Britney?’ Waves of people marched with grim intent up and down the aisles, pushing past people, taking no prisoners.

There’s a panic surrounding Christmas in this country. The shops are closed for a day, yet we stock up as if we’re facing Armageddon. It’s easy to get caught up in it though. I found myself contemplating the special cheese display, weighing up which festive multi-buy pack to put in my basket. Hang on. If I don’t eat it normally, why would I suddenly buy it for Christmas? I also hate bread sauce and Christmas pudding, but I kind of feel I should get some, just in case.

I left the store feeling disheartened and slightly grubby. And what’s more depressing is that you just know the Valentine’s and Easter goods are waiting in the storeroom, ready to be put out on Boxing Day. Bah, humbug.

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Nov 17 2012
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My Ramblings

Growing Old Disgracefully

I see a very special man at least every two weeks. We hug and kiss when we meet, tuck ourselves away in a secluded corner in a local restaurant and gossip. I feel sad when lunch is over and I wave him goodbye. What’s so unusual about this then? Well, Tom is about half a century older than me.

I signed up to Contact the Elderly six months ago. The idea is simple. Once a month a group of young people meet with a group of older people for a tea party. This bridging of generations is an attempt to reduce loneliness in older people. I was asked to pick up Tom as he lives just round the corner from me and we hit it off straight away. The first time I met him, he was hungover and tired but he had a wicked glint in his eye and soon had me in shocked stitches with his filthy jokes and indiscreet anecdotes of his years working at the BBC.

At the first tea party I went to with him, what struck me most was that the younger people seemed to be the ones benefiting as much as the older people, if not more so. Many of them had remained in the city after studying here and missed contact with their grandparents, or any older people. Likewise, the older people often lived far from their grandchildren and blossomed in the company of younger people. What we all discovered at the end of that first tea party was that the distinction between the ‘young’ people and the ‘older’ people was quickly blurred. We just happened to be a bunch of people who met up once a month.

We swapped recipes, knitting tips, lurid gossip, dirty jokes and put the world to rights. I got on so well with Tom that we now meet up outside of the group. I look forward to his company. He’s done it all before, seen it all. He puts life into perspective for me, which is badly needed right now.

Anyway, our Christmas party with all the groups in our area is in early December and I can’t wait. Why not have a look at the website? If you can spare two hours a month, I guarantee it’s one of the best things you can ever get involved with.

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