I called a couple of friends over the last few days and without fail, they’ve said to me, ‘must dash!’.
I don’t blame them. I’m a terrible, awful friend.
I have been selfish, self-occupied and…..boring. I bore myself. So what hope do my friends have?
I love my friends but possibly I have called upon one too many favours. And what do they have in return? Nothing but a whingeing, boring peep, with MS her only conversation.
It wasn’t meant to be like this. I was supposed to be the living embodiment of ‘living well despite MS.’ So what happened?
Who knows. I think I am still the engaged, interested person I always was, but recent experience has shown me I really am not. Am I so used to MS now, it has become second nature? Is it me? Am I MS?
A depressing thought. But I guess not entirely surprising. I try to imagine myself if the roles were reversed. Could I be that patient, that understanding? For almost two years?
I love my friends. The thought of losing them is too terrible to bear. I have already lost so many since The Diagnosis.
I realised recently that I’m never invited out for lunch or coffee. Or, heaven forbid, a night out. I must have turned down so many invitations I’ve lost count. Friends have given up. ‘Nah, don’t bother asking Stumbling, she’ll only say no……’
I find myself in the position of calling friends and (begging just a little), ‘um. yeah, hi! Fancy getting together? Yeah, me! Um, ok, no worries……catch up soon, yeah (please)?’
Hmmm. My friends have been superstars. It’s me who is at fault. I. Am. Boring.
This is why I plan to take up the saxaphone this year. And why I have joined a friend’s book club (forget the first planned meeting, a disaster thanks to The Teenager).
To all the friends who have stuck by me, thank you.