One day in 1990 I suddenly moved to another country. Not knowing the spoken language, not familiar with the foods of choice, and knowing no one else who had ever been to this place; well, I was on my own. The country was called Multiple Sclerosis.
Knowing I was headed there or the island of a brain tumor, I was quite happy to have an MRI expose me to my new path. Winding through symptoms including numbness, foot drop, legal blindness, slurred speech, fingers to feet that stopped functioning, I settled, after 18 years into my current life with twists and turns more dramatic than any roller coaster, comfortably aboard a lift-chair with a 5 MPH power chair poised next to it. I was a long way from Indiana.
First I had to learn the language. MRI, ABC and sometimes RTN, NIH, CNS, RR, PT, OT, AFO, oh dear, hard to learn a new language as an adult, especially when the natives often speak in acronyms.
The cuisine took some getting used to as well: green tea, low fat, lots of fruits and vegetables, high fiber, water galore. Out were my trips to burger land, fried chicken and frozen TV dinners. Oh, and for dessert: stretching with yoga and a thick topping of meditation.
The political system is not that unusual. Doctors, Researchers, Therapists, Pharmacists, all adding their individual ideas for a better MS. We do not vote, but we visit them and choose which ones will represent our needs the best. Sometimes they exceed our expectations; sometimes they drift off point, leaving us adrift as well. Fundraising is ongoing and there never is enough money to deliver what we all want---a cure.
We need not feel alone though, for there are societies, associations, and many groups that offer power in numbers. Thank goodness the Internet thrives in this country and offers engines to take us to many helpful sites. And since any miniscule point on any tiny nerve from the top of our heads to the tips of our toes can be compromised at each moment in time, well, no two bodies ever experience exactly the same physical mishaps; nor, for the same length of time. No wonder the first pilgrims to this country were considered insane.
I guess the most difficult obstacle I had to learn to deal with was the uncertainly of life here. Oh, sure, in Indiana we had 10’ below and snow that stayed for months. Spring would bring tornados and the summer brought humidity with 90’ temps that were unbearable. “Just wait and the weather will change,” they used to say; actually that was said in my second home-Seattle, Washington as well. And the same attitude is true with MS. Unpredictable: the concept that defines MS and dismantles the goal-oriented planner like me.
Do not bother looking for a visitor’s bureau; none exists, probably due to having to update brochures so often. (The cause is this; no it’s not. Don’t eat dairy; dairy is fine. It is not inherited; yes it is. This drug is best; no this one is better.) Besides, who would want to visit here? Better to lose your money in Vegas than lose your mind here. Our brains are shrinking, atrophy of limbs sneaks up on us. No beaches for sunbathing or saunas for visitors, the heat will slow our nerve signals to a virtual stop.
Will I fall today or trip over my unresponsive foot? How much will be seen clearly today and will I have the strength to look around? Numbness, tingling, pain and spasticity are always nearby. Weakness, depression, constant worries about the “f” word lurk around every boarded up tourist attraction.
F for future, the fear one dare not say aloud. Jobs are so difficult to keep here. Money is always a concern and no insurance will cover our “pre-existing condition.”
So I decided to embrace my new country, “go with the flow,” “chill out,” “take it one day at a time.” After all, this is my home now. Each day is a new adventure, a new word to learn, a new fellow citizen to meet, a new mountain to climb. Yes, MS is my new home. I embrace the new person I have become and I wouldn’t live anywhere else. Headed this way? Be brave, it is a great adventure.
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One day in 1990 I suddenly moved to another country. Not knowing the spoken language, not familiar with the foods of choice, and knowing no one else who had ever been to this place; well, I was on my own. The country was called Multiple Sclerosis.
Knowing I was headed there or the island of a brain tumor, I was quite happy to have an MRI expose me to my new path. Winding through symptoms including numbness, foot drop, legal blindness, slurred speech, fingers to feet that stopped functioning, I settled, after 18 years into my current life with twists and turns more dramatic than any roller coaster, comfortably aboard a lift-chair with a 5 MPH power chair poised next to it. I was a long way from Indiana.
First I had to learn the language. MRI, ABC and sometimes RTN, NIH, CNS, RR, PT, OT, AFO, oh dear, hard to learn a new language as an adult, especially when the natives often speak in acronyms.
The cuisine took some getting used to as well: green tea, low fat, lots of fruits and vegetables, high fiber, water galore. Out were my trips to burger land, fried chicken and frozen TV dinners. Oh, and for dessert: stretching with yoga and a thick topping of meditation.
The political system is not that unusual. Doctors, Researchers, Therapists, Pharmacists, all adding their individual ideas for a better MS. We do not vote, but we visit them and choose which ones will represent our needs the best. Sometimes they exceed our expectations; sometimes they drift off point, leaving us adrift as well. Fundraising is ongoing and there never is enough money to deliver what we all want---a cure.
We need not feel alone though, for there are societies, associations, and many groups that offer power in numbers. Thank goodness the Internet thrives in this country and offers engines to take us to many helpful sites. And since any miniscule point on any tiny nerve from the top of our heads to the tips of our toes can be compromised at each moment in time, well, no two bodies ever experience exactly the same physical mishaps; nor, for the same length of time. No wonder the first pilgrims to this country were considered insane.
I guess the most difficult obstacle I had to learn to deal with was the uncertainly of life here. Oh, sure, in Indiana we had 10’ below and snow that stayed for months. Spring would bring tornados and the summer brought humidity with 90’ temps that were unbearable. “Just wait and the weather will change,” they used to say; actually that was said in my second home-Seattle, Washington as well. And the same attitude is true with MS. Unpredictable: the concept that defines MS and dismantles the goal-oriented planner like me.
Do not bother looking for a visitor’s bureau; none exists, probably due to having to update brochures so often. (The cause is this; no it’s not. Don’t eat dairy; dairy is fine. It is not inherited; yes it is. This drug is best; no this one is better.) Besides, who would want to visit here? Better to lose your money in Vegas than lose your mind here. Our brains are shrinking, atrophy of limbs sneaks up on us. No beaches for sunbathing or saunas for visitors, the heat will slow our nerve signals to a virtual stop.
Will I fall today or trip over my unresponsive foot? How much will be seen clearly today and will I have the strength to look around? Numbness, tingling, pain and spasticity are always nearby. Weakness, depression, constant worries about the “f” word lurk around every boarded up tourist attraction.
F for future, the fear one dare not say aloud. Jobs are so difficult to keep here. Money is always a concern and no insurance will cover our “pre-existing condition.”
So I decided to embrace my new country, “go with the flow,” “chill out,” “take it one day at a time.” After all, this is my home now. Each day is a new adventure, a new word to learn, a new fellow citizen to meet, a new mountain to climb. Yes, MS is my new home. I embrace the new person I have become and I wouldn’t live anywhere else. Headed this way? Be brave, it is a great adventure.
One day in 1990 I suddenly moved to another country. Not knowing the spoken language, not familiar with the foods of choice, and knowing no one else who had ever been to this place; well, I was on my own. The country was called Multiple Sclerosis.
Knowing I was headed there or the island of a brain tumor, I was quite happy to have an MRI expose me to my new path. Winding through symptoms including numbness, foot drop, legal blindness, slurred speech, fingers to feet that stopped functioning, I settled, after 18 years into my current life with twists and turns more dramatic than any roller coaster, comfortably aboard a lift-chair with a 5 MPH power chair poised next to it. I was a long way from Indiana.
First I had to learn the language. MRI, ABC and sometimes RTN, NIH, CNS, RR, PT, OT, AFO, oh dear, hard to learn a new language as an adult, especially when the natives often speak in acronyms.
The cuisine took some getting used to as well: green tea, low fat, lots of fruits and vegetables, high fiber, water galore. Out were my trips to burger land, fried chicken and frozen TV dinners. Oh, and for dessert: stretching with yoga and a thick topping of meditation.
The political system is not that unusual. Doctors, Researchers, Therapists, Pharmacists, all adding their individual ideas for a better MS. We do not vote, but we visit them and choose which ones will represent our needs the best. Sometimes they exceed our expectations; sometimes they drift off point, leaving us adrift as well. Fundraising is ongoing and there never is enough money to deliver what we all want---a cure.
We need not feel alone though, for there are societies, associations, and many groups that offer power in numbers. Thank goodness the Internet thrives in this country and offers engines to take us to many helpful sites. And since any miniscule point on any tiny nerve from the top of our heads to the tips of our toes can be compromised at each moment in time, well, no two bodies ever experience exactly the same physical mishaps; nor, for the same length of time. No wonder the first pilgrims to this country were considered insane.
I guess the most difficult obstacle I had to learn to deal with was the uncertainly of life here. Oh, sure, in Indiana we had 10’ below and snow that stayed for months. Spring would bring tornados and the summer brought humidity with 90’ temps that were unbearable. “Just wait and the weather will change,” they used to say; actually that was said in my second home-Seattle, Washington as well. And the same attitude is true with MS. Unpredictable: the concept that defines MS and dismantles the goal-oriented planner like me.
Do not bother looking for a visitor’s bureau; none exists, probably due to having to update brochures so often. (The cause is this; no it’s not. Don’t eat dairy; dairy is fine. It is not inherited; yes it is. This drug is best; no this one is better.) Besides, who would want to visit here? Better to lose your money in Vegas than lose your mind here. Our brains are shrinking, atrophy of limbs sneaks up on us. No beaches for sunbathing or saunas for visitors, the heat will slow our nerve signals to a virtual stop.
Will I fall today or trip over my unresponsive foot? How much will be seen clearly today and will I have the strength to look around? Numbness, tingling, pain and spasticity are always nearby. Weakness, depression, constant worries about the “f” word lurk around every boarded up tourist attraction.
F for future, the fear one dare not say aloud. Jobs are so difficult to keep here. Money is always a concern and no insurance will cover our “pre-existing condition.”
So I decided to embrace my new country, “go with the flow,” “chill out,” “take it one day at a time.” After all, this is my home now. Each day is a new adventure, a new word to learn, a new fellow citizen to meet, a new mountain to climb. Yes, MS is my new home. I embrace the new person I have become and I wouldn’t live anywhere else. Headed this way? Be brave, it is a great adventure.
One day in 1990 I suddenly moved to another country. Not knowing the spoken language, not familiar with the foods of choice, and knowing no one else who had ever been to this place; well, I was on my own. The country was called Multiple Sclerosis.
Knowing I was headed there or the island of a brain tumor, I was quite happy to have an MRI expose me to my new path. Winding through symptoms including numbness, foot drop, legal blindness, slurred speech, fingers to feet that stopped functioning, I settled, after 18 years into my current life with twists and turns more dramatic than any roller coaster, comfortably aboard a lift-chair with a 5 MPH power chair poised next to it. I was a long way from Indiana.
First I had to learn the language. MRI, ABC and sometimes RTN, NIH, CNS, RR, PT, OT, AFO, oh dear, hard to learn a new language as an adult, especially when the natives often speak in acronyms.
The cuisine took some getting used to as well: green tea, low fat, lots of fruits and vegetables, high fiber, water galore. Out were my trips to burger land, fried chicken and frozen TV dinners. Oh, and for dessert: stretching with yoga and a thick topping of meditation.
The political system is not that unusual. Doctors, Researchers, Therapists, Pharmacists, all adding their individual ideas for a better MS. We do not vote, but we visit them and choose which ones will represent our needs the best. Sometimes they exceed our expectations; sometimes they drift off point, leaving us adrift as well. Fundraising is ongoing and there never is enough money to deliver what we all want---a cure.
We need not feel alone though, for there are societies, associations, and many groups that offer power in numbers. Thank goodness the Internet thrives in this country and offers engines to take us to many helpful sites. And since any miniscule point on any tiny nerve from the top of our heads to the tips of our toes can be compromised at each moment in time, well, no two bodies ever experience exactly the same physical mishaps; nor, for the same length of time. No wonder the first pilgrims to this country were considered insane.
I guess the most difficult obstacle I had to learn to deal with was the uncertainly of life here. Oh, sure, in Indiana we had 10’ below and snow that stayed for months. Spring would bring tornados and the summer brought humidity with 90’ temps that were unbearable. “Just wait and the weather will change,” they used to say; actually that was said in my second home-Seattle, Washington as well. And the same attitude is true with MS. Unpredictable: the concept that defines MS and dismantles the goal-oriented planner like me.
Do not bother looking for a visitor’s bureau; none exists, probably due to having to update brochures so often. (The cause is this; no it’s not. Don’t eat dairy; dairy is fine. It is not inherited; yes it is. This drug is best; no this one is better.) Besides, who would want to visit here? Better to lose your money in Vegas than lose your mind here. Our brains are shrinking, atrophy of limbs sneaks up on us. No beaches for sunbathing or saunas for visitors, the heat will slow our nerve signals to a virtual stop.
Will I fall today or trip over my unresponsive foot? How much will be seen clearly today and will I have the strength to look around? Numbness, tingling, pain and spasticity are always nearby. Weakness, depression, constant worries about the “f” word lurk around every boarded up tourist attraction.
F for future, the fear one dare not say aloud. Jobs are so difficult to keep here. Money is always a concern and no insurance will cover our “pre-existing condition.”
So I decided to embrace my new country, “go with the flow,” “chill out,” “take it one day at a time.” After all, this is my home now. Each day is a new adventure, a new word to learn, a new fellow citizen to meet, a new mountain to climb. Yes, MS is my new home. I embrace the new person I have become and I wouldn’t live anywhere else. Headed this way? Be brave, it is a great adventure.
One day in 1990 I suddenly moved to another country. Not knowing the spoken language, not familiar with the foods of choice, and knowing no one else who had ever been to this place; well, I was on my own. The country was called Multiple Sclerosis.
Knowing I was headed there or the island of a brain tumor, I was quite happy to have an MRI expose me to my new path. Winding through symptoms including numbness, foot drop, legal blindness, slurred speech, fingers to feet that stopped functioning, I settled, after 18 years into my current life with twists and turns more dramatic than any roller coaster, comfortably aboard a lift-chair with a 5 MPH power chair poised next to it. I was a long way from Indiana.
First I had to learn the language. MRI, ABC and sometimes RTN, NIH, CNS, RR, PT, OT, AFO, oh dear, hard to learn a new language as an adult, especially when the natives often speak in acronyms.
The cuisine took some getting used to as well: green tea, low fat, lots of fruits and vegetables, high fiber, water galore. Out were my trips to burger land, fried chicken and frozen TV dinners. Oh, and for dessert: stretching with yoga and a thick topping of meditation.
The political system is not that unusual. Doctors, Researchers, Therapists, Pharmacists, all adding their individual ideas for a better MS. We do not vote, but we visit them and choose which ones will represent our needs the best. Sometimes they exceed our expectations; sometimes they drift off point, leaving us adrift as well. Fundraising is ongoing and there never is enough money to deliver what we all want---a cure.
We need not feel alone though, for there are societies, associations, and many groups that offer power in numbers. Thank goodness the Internet thrives in this country and offers engines to take us to many helpful sites. And since any miniscule point on any tiny nerve from the top of our heads to the tips of our toes can be compromised at each moment in time, well, no two bodies ever experience exactly the same physical mishaps; nor, for the same length of time. No wonder the first pilgrims to this country were considered insane.
I guess the most difficult obstacle I had to learn to deal with was the uncertainly of life here. Oh, sure, in Indiana we had 10’ below and snow that stayed for months. Spring would bring tornados and the summer brought humidity with 90’ temps that were unbearable. “Just wait and the weather will change,” they used to say; actually that was said in my second home-Seattle, Washington as well. And the same attitude is true with MS. Unpredictable: the concept that defines MS and dismantles the goal-oriented planner like me.
Do not bother looking for a visitor’s bureau; none exists, probably due to having to update brochures so often. (The cause is this; no it’s not. Don’t eat dairy; dairy is fine. It is not inherited; yes it is. This drug is best; no this one is better.) Besides, who would want to visit here? Better to lose your money in Vegas than lose your mind here. Our brains are shrinking, atrophy of limbs sneaks up on us. No beaches for sunbathing or saunas for visitors, the heat will slow our nerve signals to a virtual stop.
Will I fall today or trip over my unresponsive foot? How much will be seen clearly today and will I have the strength to look around? Numbness, tingling, pain and spasticity are always nearby. Weakness, depression, constant worries about the “f” word lurk around every boarded up tourist attraction.
F for future, the fear one dare not say aloud. Jobs are so difficult to keep here. Money is always a concern and no insurance will cover our “pre-existing condition.”
So I decided to embrace my new country, “go with the flow,” “chill out,” “take it one day at a time.” After all, this is my home now. Each day is a new adventure, a new word to learn, a new fellow citizen to meet, a new mountain to climb. Yes, MS is my new home. I embrace the new person I have become and I wouldn’t live anywhere else. Headed this way? Be brave, it is a great adventure.
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