I met with my fabulous MS nurse last week for my six month review.
I recounted my most recent symptoms (I keep a log book, MS brain).
After I’d read out the last one, we both looked at each other and said, ‘Hmm, age, or MS?’
It’s true – it’s becoming far trickier to work out which is which. Balance, fatigue, brain, all of it. I mean, I’m not ancient (cough, 45), but life does have a funny way of creeping up on you when you least expect it.
At Christmas, The Teenager mentioned he’d be twenty years old in August and it took me aback. Seriously? I quickly worked out the dates, and he was right of course. I just never figured my son would be … 20. Just as I never expected to say I had been diagnosed with MS for seven years. A bit surreal.
Not only that, as we’ve debated, what on earth will I call him? The Twenty-ger?
In some ways, I now think I’m ‘settling’ in to MS. It is what it is, if this it what it is. And whether it’s age or various busted neuro-pathways, it’s all the same – some sort of loss.
What I should be concentrating on is what I can do, not what I struggle with. So, I’m trying to come up with a list of things that encompass a more positive approach:
- I’ve had an epic cold since November that only now shows vague signs of finally leaving. Rather than lament my neglected writing, I’ve been reading books to prove I’m still, just, studying.
- Downside to that is I’m totally mired in Victorian times, but it’s quite comforting, all the carriages and fainting spells, horrid asylum episodes to one side.
- I’ve sorted through my wardrobe, passing on clothes, buying some others in the Christmas sales.
- I’ve dusted off the Nutri-Blast.
- I’ve analysed the two new wrinkles that appeared overnight on the 2nd of January, initially dismissing them as ‘pillow-face’ creases. Nope, they’re here to stay Two days of anguish followed by, oh well.
- Should I get a shopping trolley?
- I’m four and three-quarters years away from a Saga holiday.
- My lovely friend, who is 57, has found love on a dating site. Hope?
- Our house is incredibly sorted, as I look for any excuse rather than study. Even my cutlery drawer is gleaming.
- The little cutting I took all the way in the car from Geneva in March is thriving.
So all in all, a good result for January. The Teenager (I can still call him that for a while) is gaining confidence after a blip, I’m getting better, the cat is recovering from The Teenager’s procession of friends over Christmas and all is well.
What could possibly go wrong?
