May 14 2013
6 Comments
Symptoms and Treatment

Livin’ La Vida Sofa…

livin' la vida sofaSince my spectacular fall last Thursday, I have been hobbling around at home going stir crazy.

I made a break for freedom on Sunday when a friend enticed me outside with the offer of brunch and some retail therapy. He quickly walked ahead of me as I yelled, ‘Hello trees! Hello shops! I’m out!’ and grinned manically at everyone I passed in the street.

Two hours later he dropped me back home, full of coffee but exhausted. My leg was throbbing and as I peeled my jeans off the bruise spread even further. Oops.

I have a sinking feeling the injury will take a lot longer to heal than I first thought. I’m not going anywhere this week, so I skulk around the house and spend far too much time on my sofa.

When The Teenager comes home from school, I bribe him with cake in the vain hope he will sit down long enough to tell me what it’s like in the outside world but all he wants to do is have another look at my bruise before heading upstairs to tweet and get up to the next level of Candy Crush (no idea).

I have set up a Command Centre from my sofa – everything I need is within reach. Remote control, magazines, mobile phone, Bacon Bites. I have watched every programme on my Sky Planner and now have to resort to watching Catherine Cookson adaptations and angry people shouting at each other on Jeremy Kyle.

Friends and family have been brilliant. My mum comes round every day with gossip and my latest batch of laundry. A friend dropped off a huge Victoria sponge on Saturday. Even the cat is behaving, although we argue over duvet rights on the sofa.

My days are punctuated by painkillers and chocolate (it’s medicinal). I really should get cracking on my next essay. I need to put an online shopping order in. My bank statements are staring at me from my desk. The dust balls are having a party and my garden is sadly neglected. Life is on hold.

I remain optimistic though. MS has taught me to expect the unexpected. Soon enough, things will return to normal. In the meantime, a friend is coming over soon with the new issue of Grazia and I’m going to chuck the cat off my duvet. Again.

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May 12 2013
16 Comments
Emotions

How To Lose Friends And Alienate People

IMG-20130511-00150Having something as serious as MS enter your life changes it forever. Family, work, future plans, and of course, health.

Sadly, it also lets you find out who your true friends are.

Right from the start, cherished friends deserted my sinking ship just when I needed them most. Some left abruptly without a backwards glance, others backed away slowly, step by step.

Why? I guess there are many reasons. Were they worried they’d be roped into looking after me? Would I rely on them more than usual? Were we now too different, too alienated from each other to have much in common any more?

Conversely, other friends rose to the challenge – they stuck by me through everything. They listened to me rant and rave, they wiped my tears, poured my wine and probably ended up knowing more about MS than they could ever have imagined.

Two years on, I thought nothing else could surprise me. I have a fantastic circle of friends and I hope I’m a good friend to them too, and as the MS crisis has receded, our relationship has re-balanced itself.

A couple of weeks ago, my world was rocked once more. An old friend got back in touch. We met years ago in work and although we only kept in touch sporadically, we always picked up where we left off.

We chatted by text and I suggested he look at my blog to catch up with everything that had happened since we last spoke. And that was the last I heard from him.

I feel hurt. Actually, I feel extremely hurt. And angry. The ripples and repercussions from MS are still going on, two years down the line. Now I’m semi-housebound once more after falling last week, I have too much time on my hands to reflect on this. And do you know what? It’s all good.

Those ‘friends’ who’ve left have made way for even better friends. They took their hang-ups and made space for new friends to fill the void.

If any of my friends ever face a situation like I have and I’m not sure how to handle it, the least I can say is, ‘I don’t know what to do or say, but I am here for you, you know that.’ And that is the mark of a real friend.

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May 10 2013
20 Comments
Symptoms and Treatment

Stumbling In Crutches

imageI am feeling rather sorry for myself. As I write, there is a pair of crutches next to me and I am floating among pink, fluffy clouds thanks to the strong painkillers.

Yesterday I fell quite badly, and to be fair, it wasn’t due to the MS, it was me not looking where I was going.

Unfortunately though, my MS treatment has left me with a tendency to have out-of-proportion bruising, so my leg is now a fabulous riot of colours and has swollen so much I can’t get my jeans on. To top it off, I think the shock of it has increased my nerve pain temporarily so I’m buzzing and tingling all over.

The bruising must be impressive as The Teenager keeps wanting a look at it, saying ‘ewwwwwww’ before taking another look.

All in all, not the best of days. Thank goodness for family and friends. My partner-in-crime at the museum trip (see post below) came up trumps and after making numerous phone calls, tracked down a pair of crutches I can borrow. My mum is carting away loads of laundry for me and drops round food supplies, flowers and news of the outside world.

So, yet again, I am whiling away the hours at home, not studying, not writing up my essay notes and chomping obscene amounts of Maltesers and Bacon Bites. Ho hum. I have worked out how to switch on the fire with a crutch without getting off the sofa, I count down the hours to my next lot of painkillers and The Teenager has had two takeaways in a row.

I’d like to say I have learnt something from this experience, that I will never, ever take my health for granted, but hey, didn’t I just go through all this recently with the whole MS saga? I don’t need any more time out to re-evaluate the direction of my life. Been there, done that, drowned my sorrows.

So I’m off to have another pity party and pop more painkillers. My mum is at the supermarket buying me a tub of prunes. Life goes on…

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May 09 2013
10 Comments
Daily Life

But Is It Art?

IMG-20130508-00148It was a lovely plan – a day spent at the art gallery.

I imagined myself wandering around (artistically), lost in thought, occasionally throwing out deep and insightful comments to my companion in reverential, hushed tones.

He would be impressed by the breadth of my knowledge, adding musings of his own.

Afterwards, we would sit in the cafe and contemplate the wondrous art we had seen over double-shot espressos and hand-crafted scones.

I guess we just weren’t in the mood. We scooted through the galleries, stopping short at odd, randomly-placed sculptures before moving on to the modern art section. We whizzed past each picture:

‘Nah.’

‘What’s that supposed to be?’

‘The Teenager could do better than that.’

‘Hey, check this out, it’s supposed to represent the dichotomy of suffering in an existential landscape’ (a canvas with two blobs on it).

‘Wow, this guy was pretty radical, he painted the frame too.’

‘Lunch?’

‘Yeah, let’s go.’

We ended up by the coast and looked out over the sea whilst waiting for the restaurant to open. My friend had a mischievous grin as he started bouncing in the seat of his wheelchair.

‘Seagull! Want seagull!’

‘Shut up, people are looking.’

‘Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream.’

‘Shhhhhhh. People are staring.’

‘That’s the whole point. They probably think there’s something wrong with me anyway, sitting in a wheelchair. Wanna go on the boat. Boat, boat, boat. ‘

Thankfully, lunch passed without incident and we discussed everything and nothing about living with MS and whether it was acceptable to poke fun at ourselves and our disabilities.

We decided to round off the afternoon with a coffee. Queuing up, that mischievous glint returned to his eye. In a loud voice he announced ‘Aww, you’re the best carer I’ve ever had.’

And no, the ground did not open up and swallow me…

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May 07 2013
4 Comments
Media

Would (Not) Like To Meet…

would like to meetTo cheer myself up at the weekends, I read the dating columns in the newspapers, especially the upmarket ones.

I also chortle over the birth announcements in The Times: Oscar-Theodore Chummingly-Wallop, a brother for Broccoli-Cressida and Seraphina-Arabella has a different ring to it than Kev, a brother for Chelsee and Kaycee.

My least favourite dating advert is the one that starts, ‘my secretary said, don’t mention the distant travel, restaurants and fine hotels, just say you are kind and successful and seeking a younger lady up to the age of 40.’

What decade is this guy living in? I bet he also loves Mad Men, where women knew their place and how to mix a mean Martini with a twist, whilst whipping up a three-course dinner when hubby’s boss unexpectedly invites himself to dinner.

I love the show-offs – the ‘Cambridge University educated gentleman, 70’s’ (get over yourself dear, you graduated half a century ago), ‘London or Paris, loves jazz’ (bless him, he went on a Eurostar day trip years ago) and ‘ohac, 80’ (honestly, I would hope he’d have his own home and car at that age).

Then there are the downright odd. ‘Attractive, professional businessman, lives near cliffs’. I’d be worried. ‘Divorced, 63, own teeth and hair, with no beard or tattoos or earrings but a gsoh’. There are no words.

There’re also the ‘humorous’ ones – ‘Detached and desirable and much sought after luxury property. All mod cons, in full working order, circa 1950’s. Early viewing essential!’ Gosh, I bet he’s a right barrel of laughs.

I have learned that most of the men go to the theatre and enjoy good food. Does anyone enjoy bad food? The majority of them are looking for someone slim and younger than they are. They like golf and classic cars and seem to be solvent, apart from the man who boldly states that ‘I believe the best things in life are free’. Ladies, steer clear.

To be fair, I have also ‘written’ my own advert – ‘Single, divorced parent to a sulky Teenager and bonkers cat, late 30’s. Tall, has MS’. I bet I’d be inundated…

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