The Day I Lost It

I was sitting at my desk the other day when I suddenly felt the urge to empty my bladder.  I tried Kegel exercise, pregnancy labor breathing, and had my husband get a  diaper for me so that I could bring it up my legs in case I lost the battle of me against my body.

Breathing through my mouth and squeezing my muscles as tight as I could, I stood up. Immediately as I stood up, I felt a dribble and when I was completely up, there came the flood.  I couldn’t pull up the diaper fast enough to prevent it from getting on the floor.   I finally pulled up the diaper the rest of way, but it was too late.  My bladder was empty.

I stood there and looked down.  My bare feet were covered in urine–my legs were as well.   I saw the spread of urine in a large puddle on my unfinished hardwood floor.  I felt outraged, humiliated, powerless and helpless.

I felt another urge to go and raced to the bathroom.  Again it was too late.  I felt it sliding into my diaper.  I sat on the toilet and pulled off the laden diaper and threw it in my diaper pail beside the toilet.  Yes, I have a diaper pail.

I knew I had to hurry it up so that I could clean up the mess in the other room.  I continued to sit on the toilet, but nothing came out.

Once again, a feeling of helplessness encased me in it’s powerful arms.  My body had once again betrayed me in a very obvious way, so that if someone had seen me other than my husband, it would have been evident that this lady could not control some of her bodily functions.

I walked into my office and saw the puddle there.  My husband had to leave for work and did not,  at least, paper towel it dry.  I went into the kitchen to get some supplies and realized that tears were running down my face.  I bent down to clean up the floor and as I did, anger took control of my emotions knocking helplessness off the grid.  The anger was then replaced by determination.

I went through this series of emotional upheaval.  Helplessness, powerlessness, sadness from the tears on my face, humiliation, anger and finally, determination had all come to visit me that morning.

As I cleaned, determination was joined by farce and I began to laugh.  I pictured the whole thing in my head and saw my husband rushing to get the diaper then leaving.  I saw me panting and the pointless squeezing of my muscles.  I saw me pulling up the diaper as my bladder emptied.  I saw the look of stunned surprise on my face and also saw the myriad of emotions across my face that had come to visit me.

This all happened in around five minutes.  I continued to clean while determination and farce kept me company.  I knew  I had to write this down but it took a couple of days to do so as I waged the battle of baring myself to the world at large on the internet. Honesty and integrity of this blog won over as these posts will be part of a book I’m writing.

I am sure that all of these emotions are shared by others who have an unpredictable disease such as mine.  A disease who whimsically plays games with me and my body.  A disease that at first unites my brain and heart to my body and then tries to separate the actual event, my brain and my emotional heart.

I was done cleaning and  as I sat I decided to clean myself up from the inside.  I knew I had to gain control of my heart and reunite it with the rest of me.

With great effort and with the passage of time, I pushed out all negative feelings and welcomed the two I wanted.  Determination and Farce. After bursting into peals of laughter, I saw myself laughing alone in my office, and laughter again squeezed out of me visualizing the spectacle of me laughing for no apparent reason, alone in my office.

My spin on this:

What is the point of going to bed and crying?  What is the point of letting this ruin my day? What is the point of being angry or feeling helpless?  Why in the world should I let the events in my Multiple Sclerosis life take over my whole life?  Why not keep this separate from the whole person that I am?

Sure I felt every typical emotion that a person would feel in such a situation, but I have patiently cultured a method of dealing with my diseased life.  I WILL NOT ALLOW THE FEELING OF BEING POWERLESS RULE ME.  Find the humor in these things. Acknowledge the negative feelings that came to visit and then politely ask them to leave.  The party is over for them.

My world belongs to me, not to the emotions that justifiably try to take hold of me that  partners with the actual disease. I am the owner of me and I’m very protective of my heart and my beleaguered brain.  In the scheme of things, one can feel that if anything can go wrong, it will, thereby putting energy out in the world that says, “Come get me.  I am vulnerable and I’m expecting you,” or I can say to the world, “Ok negativity, I know you’re out there and  you do have your place in the world at large because so many people give in to you. Don’t come knocking on my door.  If you do stick your foot in my door, I’m sorry but you’re not getting any further.  There is no place for you in this house of mine.”

Like I said, this is not the first time this has happened and it won’t be the last.  I refuse to wear a diaper 24/7.  I have to  deal with the possible consequences of that.  This is okay.

There is so much out on the Internet about this disease that focuses on all the bad issues. These articles will not join their company.  I am for me, for you, and for all people who sometimes struggle with the same issues.  We can sometimes feel helpless, but we are not powerless to control the eventual outcome of difficult issues.

heart brain  Magdalena


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