sena-20clock2I have had so much time to think lately.  I don’t think I care for it.  The gift of ‘thinking time’ comes along with a lot of pain from recovering from one thing or another which as you know means pain.  There is no right answer as to whether this prolonged period to think about things is good or bad.  I would hazard a guess that it’s both.

I had a fall the other day.  It was because I bent over to pet my dogs while standing and not holding on to something.  Dogs being dogs were excited.  They were jumping up at me and leaning up against me to get their share of the petting.  I lost my balance and fell forward onto my hands and knees.  Mind you, these dogs were not a large-breed dog but two tiny Chihuahuas.  I weigh a lot more than they do but these days, a drifting feather could knock me over.

It took a friend’s help to get me up off the floor.  I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t stand up on my own when I could before.  I tried my usual technique but gave up and called my friend.  I had injured my knee, nothing major, but enough to prevent me from getting up.  There was simply too much pain.  My friend asked me about my wrists and I told her they were fine but yesterday they started hurting as well, particularly the right one.  This just happens to be the one that has carpal tunnel syndrome.

I had a carpal tunnel repair on my left wrist about a year ago and I should have done the right one as well.  I was too afraid to be without both wrists at the same time.

You know what I hate?  I hate that the last few blogs of mine sound and read like other blogs where all people do is complain about issues…all their aches and pains.  However, in order to explain all this time I have to think, I need to go into how I have this time in the first place.

Normally, I keep busy with a dozen different projects but with all these surgeries, falls, and the ongoing recovery not only from the physical aftermath of such activities, the repercussions that it has on my Multiple Sclerosis to boot.

My Neurologist tells me that it takes anywhere from six to eight months to recover from any one of the things I’ve gone through to get back to baseline in the MS sense.  The way I figure it, I’ll be in my grave snug as a bug with the critters therein, before I catch up to my baseline.

Another year flips over on the calendar for me tomorrow and perhaps that is why I’m thinking about time.  Time past, lost time, wasted time, and all the other zillion words you can place before the word time.

What’s bugging me right now is wasted time when time is a hot commodity in my lifespan.  I know!  I can hear you shouting at me!  “What about five minutes at a time?”

“Hey, it’s my rule and I have the right to break it occasionally!”

Do we all do this, I wonder?  Do we change our inner lives to meet the expectations of someone else in our life?  Is this being true to ourselves?  Have we lived a lie?  Have we just settled?  Have we become so adjusted to someone else’s life that it becomes what we perceive to be what we desire?

If we’ve been happy, how much happier could we have been had we been true to ourselves?  If we’ve been partially happy, the same question.  If we have known all along that we weren’t living the life we wanted to, why did we do it?

Is it easier to lie to ourselves than to admit to our self that we’re unhappy because then we would feel compelled to do something about it?  Worse yet, what if we knew we should feel compelled but decided not to change a thing?  Was it easier to make do?

Worst of all, what if the person we were with was the person we wanted to be with but that person was not capable of living in your world?  You had to conform to be in their world!  Would that make you a self-sacrificing person for love or would it make you simply stupid?

Is this what happens to someone who is sitting around waiting to heal?  Think about things that require answers if you want peace of mind.

I’ve taken all this time that I have to answer some of these questions that pertain to my life.  It came as a surprise to me, some of my answers.  Let me rephrase that.  Put on paper, it gave me clarity where I wasn’t necessarily looking for clarity.

You see, I had some time on my hands.  Did I waste my time?  Nope.  I think whether you have Multiple Sclerosis or some other disease that has you sitting around with time as a companion, that you may as well answer these questions, and then a whole slew of other questions I’m sure will occur to me before I go to meet my maker.

Maybe this is the natural process of aging.  We can do less, so we think more.  Which brings me to my last question.

Why could we not see so clearly when we were healthy?


The Day Multiple Sclerosis Overpowered The Microwave.


My microwave needed cleaning.  I couldn’t see how bad it was except from the perspective of a short person (4’10”), but when removing items from the microwave, of late, I detected the pull of stickiness.

Okay I hear you….”Wait, you have Multiple Sclerosis.  Don’t even think about it!”

I knew I couldn’t reach up there far enough to clean it so I stood there and thought about it a second.  I have two different size stools from many years ago.  I don’t know why I cart them around because I shouldn’t use them, but I was glad I had them now.  I pulled both of the stools over to the microwave.

After arming myself with supplies, I put them on the counter where I could reach them. Then I stood there and studied the stools.  One stool was just one step and the other was two steps.  Logically, I thought I would start off with the one step.

I went over to the stool and tried to figure out how best to get on it.  It didn’t have grab bars so I would have to rely on myself or hang on to the stove or counter top.  The problem was, is that there was nothing to pull myself up with.  I couldn’t just hop on under my own power.

I tried to get one foot onto the stool.  My leg wouldn’t go as high as the step.  I tried again, this time pulling on my pant leg to help it up.  After several tries, I got it up there.  There I stood with one leg up on the stool and huge question mark on me.images

Now what?

I’m not able to push up like most people.  My neurological deficits affect many areas of my body including my ability to walk well and my overall strength.

I looked at the counter and the stove.  Could there be something I could grab onto to pull myself up instead of standing there like a child faced with an enormous decision?  To me, nothing truer could be said.  I was a lost child trying to figure out how to get from point A to point B.

I finally noticed the overhang of the counter and the handle of the oven door.  I opted for the overhang of the counters, thinking this is the safer option.  I hung on to the edge of the counter with my fingertips and SUCCESS, I had my other leg up.

I positioned myself and attacked the inside of my microwave with zest. Finally, after 15 minutes of cleaning frenzy, my microwave beamed like a brand new one.

imagesNow how to get down?

I started to shake.  In my effort to clean my microwave, I did not notice the weakness in my legs until I was done.  Contributing to the shaking legs factor, was my fear of falling down in getting off the stool.  Don’t get me wrong, I was damn proud of myself for having accomplished what I had set out to do, but I often leap then look when I make decisions based on my absolute need to get something done.

I looked down at the floor which seemed about a mile down.  I truly was terrified and having shaking legs was not helping me at all.  Would my fingertips hanging onto the counter be enough to balance a light landing, or would I come crashing down?  Well, I couldn’t just stand there all day shaking, now could I?

I held on to the counter as tight as I could and hoped for the best.  I couldn’t see where the floor was in my position so it had to be a blind faith jump down.  I reached down with my left leg and tried to feel the floor.  That would have been too simple.  Of course, I couldn’t feel the floor!  I had to bend down on my right knee to reach further down.  Luckily, my right knee was stronger than my left.

I broke out in a sweat as though I was climbing back down Mount Everest instead of a tiny stool.  Bending down on my right knee, I finally felt the floor with my left foot.  My fingertips that were hanging on to the overhang, let go without my permission and down I went with a jar.

I didn’t care that I came down with a thud.  I did it!  I cleaned my microwave.  I would have danced a jig if I could have.  Instead, I happily but very slowly walked over to my recliner in the family room and sat down.

My Take On This:

This was huge!  I didn’t know that I could do this.  I wouldn’t do this today, as this event happened a while ago, however; it still is huge in my mind.

What I did was irresponsibly dangerous.  I could have taken a fall and with being alone in the house, I may not have made it to a phone.  (Yes I know, I should get one of those push button call for help thingy, but they advertise it with old folks crying for help. I did not want to categorize myself as a person like that.)

In looking back at this, I still am damn proud of it.  In fact, it’s rather humorous.  It’s rather poignant that I look at this as a big event still.  It’s these tiny things that I do, that loom so large in my life, that gives me the power I need to continue to think positive about this disabling disease, Multiple Sclerosis.