Tag Archives: multiple sclerosis

Sep 20 2016
16 Comments
Emotions

Future-Proof?

sleepI’m one of those smug people who’s asleep the minute their head hits the pillow.

I slumber straight through to my alarm (stupid, crashing waves on a seashore), which is why I triple-check that The Teenager has his front door key handy at all times.

Not so much recently though; I’ve even surprised him by being upright on the sofa, knocking back hot chocolate and watching Sky News wide-eyed at 1.30 am as he stumbles through the door.

Whether it’s the pesky thyroid or MS, I’m not sure. All I know is that it’s annoying, frustrating and ruining my diet (I munch on toast and pick at leftovers).

Being awake in the dead of night does strange things to my brain. I’m not motivated to add 100 words to my dissertation or go through my bank statements, things that would make me feel saintly in the morning.

Instead, my brain runs riot. Darkness creeps through my thoughts. During the day, I know I’m doing well – working, studying and most importantly, bringing up The Teenager.

However, in the wee small hours, I worry about working (how long can I do this?), studying (how long can I do this?) and The Teenager (how can I help him into adulthood, am I doing enough, am I failing?).

What will happen to me when I can no longer work? With the galling statistic of 80% of people with MS giving up work within 15 years of diagnosis, the future looks bleak and I’m 4.5 years down the line.

On the upside, perhaps I could live on a barge, cultivating pots of geraniums on the deck and gliding through canal-ways? Or move to India and live on a beach, spouting profound and inspiring words of wisdom to gauche back-packers? Or flat-share with a bunch of other mature students, labelling my milk in the fridge and avoiding the gunk in the shower?

On the downside, what happens if my MS progresses?

Without a significant other to look out for me, will I wither away? Be eaten by mice?

I’m trying to be an optimist. I’ve had great treatment. I’m determined to work as long as I possibly can. But in the back of my mind, it’s always there, the thought that one day, this may all change …

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Sep 15 2016
6 Comments
Media

Script To Screen

spoonfedThere was me, thinking I wouldn’t be able to visit MS Life in London this weekend.

Well, earlier today I was in the middle of re-wiring a plug, drinking a cold soya latte and eating some onion ring crisps when I had a call.

There is to be a screening of Spoon Fed, a short film about MS, starring the wonderful Lesley Sharp (Scott & Bailey) and Joseph Mawle ( Game of Thrones and Birdsong) at MS Life on Saturday.

And me! (I’m the depressed-looking one, shuffling in to the support group and saying ‘hi’ to Joseph before taking a seat).

(That took me seven takes, honestly. This acting malarky is hard).

Would I be able to attend and take part in a question and answer panel afterwards?

Erm, if it’s a choice between plumbing in a bathroom and getting stuck in a serious amount of mud (long story) or swanning off to London, I said yes straight away. The details would sort themselves out.

To be involved in such a great project from start to finish has been brilliant; I met the actors in an intense rehearsal session where I answered every question they had about MS and how it had impacted my life.

The next day, I was at the shoot, watching Lesley Sharp capture my ‘MS walk’ so completely, I welled up. It was me on the screen.

spoon-fed-editedfilm

The production, from start to finish, has been superb. Have a little read here.

If you’re attending MS Life at the weekend, please stop by around 6.45pm on the Saturday.

We’ll be in the main theatre and it would be fantastic to see you!

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Sep 12 2016
25 Comments
My Ramblings

A Considered Response …

terrifyingI’ve been so fortunate to receive glowing reviews of my book on Amazon and Good Reads, and I treasure every single one (often reading them when I’m having a low day).

However, I had one the other day which made me stop and think.

The essence was, ‘loved the start but at the end … so much of it rambles on and is not really in the realm of most MS’ers, eg. taking on an MA’.

Do I ramble? Yes, most definitely. I even have a category on my blog labelled, ‘My Ramblings’.

It was more the second part which stuck in my head. Let me explain:

Due to MS, I have had to give up my entire career path. It just won’t happen, especially after being sacked for having MS. I was derailed. Luckily I was offered a job by my best friend, which, although fulfilling and excellent at fitting around the myriad of appointments I suddenly have, has no real career path. I will no doubt end my working days with this company.

I needed something else; something mind-expanding and difficult. As I struggled tremendously to complete my degree just when MS struck, I thought, ‘OK MS, you almost won, but get this, I’m going to try something even more challenging.’

I hit on the idea of a Creative Writing MA. Could I write anything else apart from my blog? Believe me, it’s looking like I can’t. But at least I tried.

I’m not that different from MSers who run marathons, who raise money for MS charities or hold cake bakes. Or the MSers who progress through their career path, defying their detractors. My way of pushing back the frontiers and limitations of MS is to indulge myself in something I never thought I would be able to do.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s been hell. I’ve cried, almost withdrew from my course several times, torn up endless manuscripts and sniffled in class when my short story was brutally dissected.

Perhaps an MA is ‘outside the realm of most MS’ers’. Just as jumping out a plane is for me. Or winning a gold medal in Rio.

My MA is precious to me – it shows me I still can. 

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Sep 04 2016
7 Comments
Blogging

MS Life – Go!

ms lifeI went to MS Life in 2012, shortly before I was diagnosed.

It was the best thing I ever did.

I was full of trepidation before I went, but it was well worth the journey from Cardiff to Manchester.

This year it’s in London and I urge you to attend if you haven’t been to one before.

I was lucky enough to speak in-depth with a wonderful MS nurse, who guided me through the McDondald Criteria, my symptoms and  my options. She answered all my questions and made me feel empowered, which was fantastic as I was due to have a meeting with my neurologist soon after.

With what we had spoken about, I felt a lot calmer for the neuro meeting in which I was subsequently diagnosed and DMT’s were brought up.

And that’s what it is all about – information.

I’m that kind of person, if I know what I’m up against, I’d like as much information as possible. I’m a ‘cover-all-bases’ peep.

Anyway, back to MS Life – a celebration of MS in all its guises. I collected my bag full of – information – and gathered even more information from various stalls (check out the MS Trust stand – it’s superb) before heading back to my hotel room and reading every single thing.

Knowledge is power. Everyone I met at the event was friendly, enthusiastic and helpful. No question was too small or seemingly insignificant.

I’d love to attend this year but sadly my finances are limited, however I’ll be keeping up to date with all the talks and events.

Please go, if you can. And if you do, could you snaffle me one of the bags you get when you register?

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Aug 18 2016
10 Comments
My Ramblings

Safe Haven or Prison?

homeI had a very interesting chat about the early stages of my MS the other day.

One thing that cropped up again and again was how isolated I felt.

The foot-drop, the stumbling, the jaw-dropping fatigue – they all conspired to keep me at home.

I no longer socialised, preferring to invite my few remaining friends over to mine instead, where I could lounge on the sofa, safe in the knowledge that they wouldn’t judge me or the amount of tears I cried. Or how much cake I scoffed.

I went out far less and began to place internet shopping orders for everything – groceries, books, a radio, even a packet of batteries. My lovely squishy sofa became a hateful place where I spent hour after hour sleeping my life away.

My window was a torture instrument, displaying an endless reel of everything I was missing out on. My kitchen morphed into an obstacle course, showing off the ingredients that lay rotting in the fridge and languishing in the cupboards. Meals were ready-made and unsatisfying.

In short, my home became a prison, and the more I was isolated, the more I became isolated. It seemed a vicious circle and one I couldn’t find an escape from. I realised I was in serious danger of living my life from my sofa, comfort-eating, feeling sorry for myself and developing a serious lounge-wear habit.

I don’t often talk to myself, preferring to offload to the cat instead, but this time I gave myself a shaking down. This had to stop. I used to love my house – it was a place where I was bringing up The Teenager. I had stamped our style all over it; it was fun, bright, comfortable and, well, home.

Over the next couple of months, I ventured a little further out. Ok, I got tired, I tripped up. I dropped a whole cup of coffee over myself. I started to think, who cares? And why do I care so much? It wasn’t easy. It was painful and embarrassing, but the alternative, that looming prison-home was far worse.

Nowadays, I have accepted that life will never be like before. Spontaneity has gone, never to be seen again. The rules have changed and I have to change with them or be left behind. I’ve worked out my high-energy points and low-energy points and put them to good use. I accept there will be down times, when I have to rest or pay the consequences. I make the most of the up times.

My house has returned to it’s former state – it is a place I feel safe and comfortable in. I love it. I love my squishy sofa. I love my kitchen – it plays host to fresh ingredients and a sprinkling of ready-meals and they happily co-exist. I have a stack of books ready for when all I can do is slump on the sofa, as elegantly as possible.

And now, when I’m having a really bad MS week, I’m tussling with my house again. I have a pile of uni books to read and I could do with wrapping myself in clingfilm and lying down somewhere quiet in a bid to lose weight.

My house could be a prison, or it could be a safe haven I can return to …

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