Ever tried putting mascara on wearing boxing gloves? Or holding a lovely cup of hot coffee? Pretty tough. My last relapse affected my hands and just for a laugh, they still play up every so often and this weekend was no exception.
Like most relapses, it came out of the blue. One day I was elegant(ish) and my hands were just things that did things hands normally do. I didn’t really give them much thought.
Until the morning I flicked the kettle on and knocked it over, swiftly followed by my cup. Odd. When I left the house that morning, I missed the door handle. Odder.
I tried to explain to the MS nurse that my hands were either a few seconds too quick or a few seconds too slow, they drop things unexpectedly and sometimes they’re so numb, they feel like boxing gloves. It doesn’t sound like such a huge problem, but socially it’s dire.
Putting on make-up is comical – I gave up on eyeliner months ago and mascara wands hurt like hell when they’re poked in the eyes. Lipstick goes on well until, blam, whoops, dodgy line – The Rocky Horror Show’s got nothing on me.
Wine glasses are a minefield. I’ve smashed countless. Be warned, never clink glasses with me, just say cheers and nod. All my plates and bowls are chipped and you can hear me doing the washing up a mile away.
If I’m walking through a cutesy, arty gift shop, I have to keep my hands rigidly by my side or ever so carefully reach out, inch by inch, to pick something up. I can clear a shelf of pottery in one fell swoop. And my days of playing KerPlunk and Operation are long gone.
I used to like craft work but can’t knit any more and the glue gun’s been in the drawer so long it’s seized up. I tried to make a Christmas wreath out of paper hearts and glued everything except the paper. The cat made herself scarce so now I scroll through Pinterest and sigh wistfully.
I persevere though. I am going to invest in melamine plates and plastic wine glasses and I will make that wreath by next Christmas if it kills me. If you see it, be polite and please don’t snigger….