Colorful Little Boxes

They have invaded! No one else can see them unless they are in close proximity. I always see them as does my husband. In fact, my husband is the only one who has some type of control over them. I am collateral damage—maybe.

At times, I look forward to them and at other times, I feel that if I see one more of them, I will find a room to hide in.

They don’t mean to cause confusion in my life where one day I anticipate them and the next, I evade them. It isn’t their fault when they are sometimes demanded to do more damage than good. Imagine their confusion when we reach out to them and then turn our backs on them without rhyme or reason.

My meds. They lay in little boxes waiting to see if I will actually place them on my warm tongue or not. Of course, I pick them up and cradle them in my hand before taking them into the dark recesses of my body.

I am a walking chemical imbiber taking 40 some odd pills a day. I stare at them and wonder when they will finally take me down. At least that is what I feel some days.

There they sit in their colorful boxes while I glare at them. Nothing fazes them. Either I choose to pick them up or not. They don’t care. They are just waiting to see if they get the day off or not.

Of course not!!! If I give them the day off, by day’s end, I will be on the ceiling struggling to reach them. If I am alone, my calls and tears fall on an empty room while my pills look at me from the coffee table in their colorful little boxes. Eventually, I crash down from the ceiling to the floor causing the house to moan.

The house has been a silent observer all this time. It too waits every morning to see if I will fill up my dance card with 40 some odd pills. Strangely enough, there are no jealous suitors in those colorful little boxes. I guess they know that I will always get around to them.

I’m off now. After all, with a full dance card I need to start early in order to get round to all of them.

Sadly, Magdalena passed away last week. This website will be shut down in the near future. It would be her wish that someone with the same passion for trying to help others with MS continue this type of outreach. Maggie will be dearly missed. (Her husband, David.)

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