Doing The Big Shop

In a bid to get my routine back on track, I got up early yesterday to go for the Big Shop. I can’t seem to plan a week ahead though, so I normally just buy some  meat, vegetables, pasta and rice and cobble meals together on a day-to-day basis, always having to buy extra ingredients each day.

One of my first symptoms of MS was being unable to plan anything at all. My brain just would not compute basic things and I got confused easily. Food shopping was a nightmare. I would stand and stare at the rows of food, unable to decide what I needed and end up grabbing random things and chucking them in my trolley. I couldn’t even follow simple recipes so we lived off baked potatoes and microwave meals for a long while.

But, I was upbeat and optimistic. If I stuck to the basics, I couldn’t go wrong. I parked up, glared at the builder’s van taking up two disabled spaces and marched into the store. I wandered up and down the aisles, panic rising. So many special offers, so many meal deals. Three things for a tenner, five things for a tenner, buy one, get one half price. And Christmas carols playing in the background.

I could feel my brain melting. As I circled the aisles again and again, I couldn’t choose anything. Deep breath. Get some salmon. Get a big bag of potatoes, some carrots, few tins of tuna. Stand for ages in front of the ten pound meal deal. Two starters, two mains, one dessert. Mathematical equation. Is it me or is it hot in here?

Finally, I make it to the till where the checkout woman chucks my food through so fast, I get nervous, drop things, can’t pack the bags. Hands don’t want to hold anything today, but mission is finally accomplished. When I get home, I stagger into the house, laden with bags, rain pouring down and trip over the cat.

It’s bizarre how the most simple, taken-for-granted tasks can become an assault course when you have MS. I was planning to make cottage pie for dinner, but the recipe is confusing the hell out of me and I forgot the Worcestershire sauce…

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The End of the Beginning

I think I reached my lowest ebb yesterday, and when you’ve hit rock bottom, the only way is up.

I am going to be more proactive rather than reactive. I don’t have a daily routine any more, so I will have to create my own one. As Jan pointed out in a comment to yesterday’s post, these couple of months are a great opportunity to review my life and see which direction I want to take. When your whole life is smashed to pieces in a year – from a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis, to bullying to being sacked from work – it’s a rare chance to re-build it, just the way you want.

So, I am going to regard today as the start of the next chapter. Yesterday marked the end of the beginning. On the plus side, I have two months work, I am away from a toxic office, I will no longer be bullied and they made a huge, massive mistake in sacking me the way they did. On the down side. Hmm……absolutely nothing. I can’t think of one thing.

There doesn’t seem much point stressing any more about the MS. Stressing will only make it worse anyway. There’s not a thing I can do to change it. What I need to do though is have some space to come to terms with it, but that’s kind of on hold right now. And that’s fine.

Autumn is a time of renewal. So I have decided to be a tree, shedding all the old leaves and generating new shoots, ready for next year. And if that sounds odd, it’s probably because I am working from home, all by myself, with only the cat for company. And we have great conversations…

 

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Cast Adrift

This is not shaping up to be the best week. I called the office for some feedback for the work I had done from home and had emailed over to them. The telephone call lasted 53 seconds. Great.

I have two months grace from being dismissed from my job for having MS. I still need to be able to contact the office. I hate working from home. I liked getting up in the morning, having my coffee, getting ready for work. Leaving the house.

I have been cast adrift and I am not enjoying it. Routine has disappeared. Coffees, once gulped down at the same time as doing my mascara, now take far longer. I sit in my dressing gown watching the news. 8.30am passes me by, the time I would normally be in the office.

I am sinking into lethargy. I am stressed. All my MS symptoms are coming back. My feet buzz and tingle incessantly, my left arm doesn’t work properly and I am unbalanced on my feet. I just want to go back to bed and pull the duvet over my head. I drove past my old workplace today. and I was so close to stopping the car, pressing the buzzer and yelling at them. How can they treat me like this? Why are they doing this to me?

In desperation, I went to my sister’s kiddy Hallowe’en party, just to get out the house. It was great to be surrounded by miniature Frankensteins, witches and Harry Potter’s. There was nothing else on their minds except grabbing the largest slice of pizza or getting the highest score on the Wii.

I need to get back into the swing of things. I need to maintain a routine. I don’t want to sink, but a big part of me thinks it would be far easier to give into it.

So, if you’re passing, knock my door and take me out. Anywhere, just out.

 

 

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Just Hook Me Up

I am living on coffee and stress so why am I putting on weight? I want to be one of these people who sheds pounds when they’re dashing around like a demented chicken, pumped up with stress and an unfair dismissal.

My mind is racing, but it seems my body isn’t. It’s just over a week since I was sacked for having MS. There is too much to do, apart from the everyday routine, the Christmas planning, the taxi service for The Teenager. Throw in all the ubiquitous health appointments, blood tests, a newly-diagnosed day and a fatigue management course and I’m up against it.

So the thought of launching a legal case is filling me with fear, and coffee. I (think) I am a nice person. I don’t like fighting. At school, I gave my lunch money to the bullies without a word. But this scenario, the one I am facing right now, is out of my league.

The bullying in work was horrendous enough. A year of loathing myself for not standing up to them, whilst battling to come to terms with my diagnosis and what it means for my future. Perhaps there is a tipping point. By dismissing me on the spot, expecting me to clear my desk and leave straight away has made me angry. I would hate myself more for walking away.

What have I got to lose? I have had incredible support. My healthcare professionals have risen up in outrage and anger, my friends have rallied round and my forum buddies have carried me along on a wave of advice and soothing words. One of them pointed out that I would only ever have to do this once. Excellent point.

I have to do this.

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The Teenager is Back

After three days of peace and quiet, The Teenager is back. I missed him like crazy, but being an off-duty parent has been bliss.

I cleaned the house from top to bottom on Friday and it’s stayed just the same. The towels are still hanging up, the loo roll doesn’t disappear quite so fast (does he eat it?) and the washing machine is taking a well-deserved break. I don’t walk through clouds of Lynx. There’s been no homework supervision, driving to rugby games or food shopping for an army.

On his way back home though, the texts came thick and fast:

Can I have a sleepover? No.

Can I have a tenner for the cinema, and bus fair? Maybe.

Has anyone been in my bedroom? Yes, me. Emptying your bin.

Did the cat miss me? Um, I guess so.

At the supermarket earlier, I made the mistake of calling him to ask what he wanted for a welcome home tea.

‘Pizza. But it has to be Chicago Town’.

‘Ok, wait til I get to the freezer cabinet. Right, which one?’

‘Cheese, but not the four cheese one.’

‘They don’t have that. Pepperoni?’

‘No.’

‘Duck? Sloppy Joe? Beef? Mexican?’

‘Nah. Just cheese.’

‘They. Don’t. Have. That’.

‘I suppose I’ll have to have the pepperoni then.’

I get to the checkout. The Teenager calls. He’s changed his mind, he’ll have the four cheese one. The freezer cabinet is at the other end of the store. I buy the Pepperoni.

There’s no such thing as an off-duty parent, is there?

 

 

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