Tag: MS

chronic illness, life, MS

Some people – Practice kindness

Amanda, walkamyelinmyshoes

I had a really wonderful then upsetting experience yesterday. I was in the ‘accessible’ lineup at the grocery store – simply because it was the shortest line, I’m still totally mobile. I left my cart to get another item and when I came back the cashier had put up her ‘closed’ sign but said I was fine because I was there before she closed.

As she was checking me through, very attentively asking me about the weight of the bags, saying how she was always careful because you never knew if someone had had shoulder surgery or something and how would you know?

Wonderful awareness for invisible illness, which is rare, but in the meantime, an older (72-ish) gentleman in a motorized wheelchair was waiting at the end of the belt trying to get her attention. When I signaled her, he asked if she was closed for a single bag of chips. She explained that she had no choice, she had to close and not take any more customers.

The man was understandably shocked that as a visibly disabled person she couldn’t bend the rules to make his day just a tad easier. To be fair, she was a lovely young woman who was following the rules – too young to really understand the implications of rigid rule-following.

I offered to check the chips through on my account, had her scan them and passed them back to the man. He insisted that I take the money from his bag and seemed a bit offended when I offered to pay. Finally I begged him to let this be the nice thing I did for the day and he laughed and let it go.

Then he got stuck. In the accessible aisle.

I offered to maneuver the chair but he said it was too heavy. It just took time for him to figure it out with his fisted hand that he could hardly control as he was wedged between the two counters.

He looked up at me and said, “This is just what it is to have MS.”

After a gulp, I responded, “I have MS too. I’m not where you are but I get it.”

He looked at me with tears in his eyes, went back to un-wedging himself and when he was free said, “Thank you very much. I really appreciate it.”

A wonderful exchange. Simple human caring and courtesy.

As I finished checking out, I saw that the same gentleman was slowly making his way out of the grocery store. A woman about my age was behind him with her cart, maintaining a respectful distance as he tried to make his body makes its way out of the store.

Just as he was almost through, a man with a single item, again about my age (ie.not a teenager or early twenties, ie. SHOULD KNOW BETTER) came up behind and yelled, ‘BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!’

WTF? Are you kidding me??

The asshole is lucky I couldn’t catch up with him or he’d be needing an ice pack.

chronic illness, life, mental health

Milestones and Reflections

Amanda, walkamyelinmyshoes

At the beginning of June, I celebrated the first year of my blog. It was a huge step for uber-private me last year but the response once I finally faced my fear and hit publish was unreal. I can’t believe I have over 500 followers. More importantly, I can’t believe the support I’ve received and the friends I’ve made in this wonderful community. I’m so grateful. Thank you all. 💕

On this day four years ago, I received my MS diagnosis in the morning before going back to school for the last afternoon with my class. I didn’t know it would be the last afternoon I would spend as a teacher at the time.

It’s been an interesting journey, to say the least. The physical symptoms, especially the fatigue, stopped me teaching but the mental gymnastics associated with being chronically ill really stopped me in my tracks.

Fear, grief, anxiety, depression, guilt. Oh, the guilt! Learning to say ‘I can’t’ – especially to my children, forcing myself to stop when I ‘should’ get a little more done, unable to enjoy the good days because I ‘should’ be working.

I’ve learned to mostly maintain perspective when the anxiety and depression hit because I know it’s temporary, no matter how black. The fear hits pretty strongly when my body does it’s weird party tricks. (numbness, tingling, burning, buzzing, dizziness, tinnitus, spasms, trembling, pain and the fatigue that courses through my veins. #msawareness)

But life is scary for everybody in one way or another. Perspective.

The guilt has been the nastiest of the negatives. It comes up over and over and I’ve struggled to gain the same perspective, especially on the good days. I’d love so much to be back in the classroom that when the uglies lessen a bit, I forget how bad they are and feel I should at least try to go back to work. When they inevitably reappear, I remember why I can’t do the job I love so much.

Four years on, I’m done with the guilt on my good days. I won’t compromise the health I’ve regained since I stopped working by forcing myself to go back to work. And I won’t waste the bonus time I do get feeling guilty anymore, dammit! So there, MS. 🤗 From now on, I’m doing ‘jazz hands’ any time the guilt creeps in – haha!

This day marks a milestone for each of our younger children as well. After knocking our socks off at her Variety Show on Monday singing ‘Defying Gravity’ – (check out my instagram or facebook for the video), our youngest is finishing her last day at elementary school. It’s truly the end of an era, as we started there an unbelievable 15 years ago when our eldest was in kindergarten.

Our son is finishing his last day of high school, heading across the country to study Economics at Western University in September. Needless to say, we are incredibly proud of his achievements so far and excited for him, but there will be a big hole that will take getting used to. It’s all as it should be and we can’t wait to see where he goes with his life. This kid is motivated!

Finally, our eldest got her first car so now we have our own taxi 😉 she’s embarking on a whole new level of independence and financial responsibility. We have no doubt she’ll manage her shiny new car with her usual attention and responsibility, and have lots of great adventures in the years to come.

❤️ Amanda

chronic illness, MS

Not all hugs are loving: MS awareness

Amanda, walkamyelinmyshoes

It starts with a stitch

A few deep breaths

Then you’re knitting my ribs together

With barbed wool

The front

Then the back

Swirling into my abs

Then my lower back

A corset of pain

The cat the cow

The cat the cow

Stretching every way for relief

Breathe

Distract

It’s just a physical thing

I hug myself hard

To try to get you to let go

Nothing helps

Just breathe

I’m writing this as I’m experiencing a common MS symptom, known as the ‘MS hug”. I’ve always been a hugger but this is not the kind of hug anybody wants to experience. When people refer to multiple sclerosis as a MonSter, it’s for good reason. It sneaks up and attacks when you’re at your weakest. I’ve been fighting the cold from hell, downgraded from the flu thanks to the infrared sauna.

So – stress. The worst enemy of anybody with a chronic illness. Hence, the MS hug and an increase of all the other symptoms that make me feel like Beetlejuice in that electrified way, minus the energy.

Good times.

Just breathe.

❤️ Amanda

life

Infrared Sauna: Flu killer

Amanda, walkamyelinmyshoes

We made it the whole winter with nary a sniffle, then the first day of spring our eldest woke up with the flu. Then our youngest succumbed. It’s a nasty one too, (what flu isn’t), fever, dizziness, headache, nausea and a deep, retching cough.

Having MS, I’m pretty paranoid about getting sick. Simply because what could be a three week ordeal for a healthy person, could drag me down for months. So, I followed my Tips for staying healthy in cold and flu season. Oh, and ate LOTS of garlic! 🤭

Still, the achy, weak fatigue descended. Although, it was difficult to tell if that was the flu because it’s pretty much how I feel all the time. It was when the cough appeared, painful as a badly scraped knee, accompanied by a killer headache that I knew it got me.

So, that’s when I followed my ultimate tip, and got myself into the infrared sauna. I stayed in for thirty minutes two days in a row, and while I have a cough and a bit of a headache, I believe the heat of the sauna staved off the worst of it. It’s like having a fever to kill off the nasties, without having to go through the nastiness of a fever.

A lot of people with MS suffer from heat intolerance, and I’m one of them depending on the day. The kind of heat produced in an infrared sauna is different though, not at all like the dry heat of a traditional sauna, or the sun. I find that if I don’t do it very often, it doesn’t affect my symptoms at all.

And if it killed off those flu bugs before they took a real hold, it’s definitely worth it. Mind you, my other theory is that my immune system is so overactive, that it might not have got me as badly even without the sauna.

Other MSers, do you find that don’t get sick as often or as badly since you had MS? Probably it’s like everything with this crazy disease, different for everyone. Well, I hope none of you have been ravaged by the flu this year, and if you feel something coming on, I strongly urge you to find an infrared sauna near you.

Stay healthy, lovelies!

❤️ Amanda

chronic illness, life, mental health, MS, Quotes

Pain and anxiety

Amanda, walkamyelinmyshoes

I had another post scheduled for today, and then this happened…

My body has been happier for the last month or so than I remember it feeling for a few years now. My mom and I had a mostly wonderful outing to the theatre today(Saturday). We watched an incredible tribute to the phenomenal Leonard Cohen by Les Ballets Jazzs de Montreal.

Normally I print the tickets at home but for whatever reason I chose ‘pick up at box office’. We had to wait outside in the beautiful but freezing cold day (for Victoria standards – we’re wimps compared to most Canadians 😉), and by the time we got into the lobby, the MS monster was in full force.

Right or wrong, I resorted to a glass of wine which always calms the shakes and the nasty. Despite the plastic cup with a lid, I spilled all over my light purple pants. Nice. Of course, if I’d been wearing black it wouldn’t have happened. 🤣

Anyway, the following spilled out of me a few hours after I got home today. I wanted to share because I imagine it’s not an uncommon feeling. The pain’s bad enough but coupled with the anxiety of whether it’s signalling a relapse makes it almost unbearable.

I’m going to assume that when I wake in the morning, after this post is published, the monster will have retreated again and I will keep on keeping on. To all the warriors out there, I send you courage and positive vibes in the battle.

❤️ Amanda

The pain heaves my stomach and sparks my anxiety.

It’s like too much blood in my foot, pushing out against my skin.

The foot wants to fold in half too, a taco of toes.

I breathe out against the pain, hoping it’s that my shoes are too tight.

The pain gets worse lying in bed later, legs bare, unconstricted.

There’s a python in my leg, squeezing, squeezing until I can’t breathe.

I move the leg to dispel the pain but it follows me, hungry.

I reprimand the foot.

It’s the misfiring of neurons, it’s not really happening.

A futile attempt.

The pains roars louder.

I swallow the nausea, blink against the headache.

The pain runs up and down my leg, into my arm, my jaw, my shoulder, my back.

It’s everywhere.

Controlling my body and my mind, I’m lost in the misery.

Then the anxiety yells above the pain.

Is it happening?

Will I be down for the count?

Is it going to take me out for good this time?

I want to cry.

I want to hide.

I want out of this body.

I feel the grimace on my face and try to correct it with a smile.

A smile marinated in pain, a crone’s smile.

My face slackens, my mouth sliding down my chin.

The foot is sharing, pain travelling up my leg into my hip socket.

A live wire sizzling its anger from the inside.

My eyes squint, I swallow the lump of tears, blink away the moisture.

Crying won’t help, it makes the headache worse.

Lie still, lie still, breathe it away.

Shoulders tense, jaw clenched, abs contracted to hold it down.

Now the python’s in my arms too, too much blood in my whole body.

A burning tingle numbing my body and mounting my panic.

It circles my ribs.

They click together, compress my lungs.

I take a long, slow breath but my lungs won’t fill.

My tongue tingles.

I swallow the nausea again, the bile crawling up my throat.

The wrinkles deepen on my face, crevasses of pain.

The pain shoots down to my big toe, throbbing its nasty foulness.

The python circles my throat and I choke on my saliva, coughing and sputtering.

I hold my neck, coaxing the muscles to relax, the python to release its grip.

The panic screams but I have no time for that right now.

I need to breathe, to relax my body before I turn to stone.

But if I relax, the python will take over, squeezing me until I burst.

Nothing makes sense, the pain clouds reason.

No focus except stopping the python, controlling the panic.

The worry that it’s not here just for tonight.

That it wants to settle in for awhile.

Stopping my life again. Ocean, beach, waves, rocks, quote

You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.