Chocolate haunts me. Last night a giant Jaffa Cake chased me down the road. When I woke up, I could almost taste it. I adore chocolate and it worships me in return. So much so that it hangs around my thighs, stubbornly clinging on for dear life . I know we need to go our separate ways, but it’s a really comforting friend to have around. Always available, cheap and comes in endless varieties.
Multiple sclerosis has given me a great excuse – when the worst has already happened, who cares if you treat yourself now and again? So many other things seem more important than whether I am knocking back the chocolate buttons by the bucket-load. Just had an excruciating lumbar puncture? Have a family-sized Galaxy bar. Fallen flat on your face in a packed restaurant? Order a profiterole surprise to share then grab both forks.
In a desperate bid to curb my cravings, I came up with a cunning plan. Advent calendars are on sale now. What if I were to buy one and only pop open two windows a day? Plus, I’ll get some early Christmassy vibes going. I reached Christmas Eve that same night and put the pillaged calendar out for recycling. Ok, Plan B. Eat no chocolate all week, then have a blow-out on Friday. I was cured! I ate so much of the stuff, I vowed never to eat it again, until I woke up on Saturday, noticed there were still a few Maltesers left in the packet, and I was lost in a chocolate haze once more.
I know, I could keep on trundling out the old MS excuse for ever, but where do I draw the line? I don’t want to give in just because I have MS. Perhaps because I have MS I should look after myself more, not less.
