chronic illness, life, mental health

Milestones and Reflections

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

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

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

Book recommendations, chronic illness, mental health

Depressed? Read this book!

Not much to report here, except that the gnomes and ogres are still having their dance party. I’ve just tried to stay busy doing jobs around the house when the energy permits, getting outside every day, reading a ton and binge-watching Outlander in anticipation of season 4 coming out on Netflix.

I started reading a book I started in the summer, and I had to share it. If you need some perspective, and some good laughs, I highly recommend Furiously Happy by Jenny Lawson. She is also known as The Bloggess and has a thing about taxidermy, as well as an interesting perspective of the world from living with mental illness her whole life.

With chapter titles like “Koalas are Full of Chlamydia” and “Voodoo Vagina”, this is not a self-help book. Yet somehow, it’s very helpful in its own bizarre way. Here are some nuggets from the sections I’ve been reading:

“My psychiatrist told me that when things get rough I should consider my battle with mental illness as if I were “exorcising a demon” and I was like, “Well, no wonder I’m failing so miserably. I’m shit at exercising.”

“Like my grandmother always said, “Your opinions are valid and important. Unless it’s some stupid bullshit you’re being shitty about, in which case you can go fuck yourself.”

“Did you know that kangaroos have three vaginas? Because they totally do and that’s probably why they’re always hitting each other. They probably have PMS every damn day of the week. But on the plus side, kangaroos have plenty of places to smuggle things, with so many holes in their bodies. In fact, they’re so full of holes it’s sort of shocking that all the kangaroo doesn’t just leak out.”

Okay, so she’s random. Maybe that’s what I’m responding to, along with her complete honesty about living with mental illness. I have tremendous empathy for people who live with mental illness throughout their lives. This is new for me, depression was not something I had experienced until two years ago, and so far it has come and gone within several weeks – fingers crossed this time. Living with this feeling day in and day out over years, takes a special kind of fortitude.

It is only in sharing our experiences and being honest that we will break the stigma of mental illness. It is the most rampant of all the invisible illnesses, and it’s time that it was taken as seriously as physical ailments. There should be no shame in admitting that you’re struggling, and it’s important to reach out and ask for help if you’re not coping. You are not alone.

Do you have any books about depression, anxiety or other mental illness that you recommend? I’d love any suggestions in the comments. Links for the book below for your convenience.

Have a wonderful week!

❤️ Amanda

Jenny Lawson

Furiously Happy: A Funny Book about Horrible Things

Amazon.ca: Furiously Happy

Amazon.com: Furiously Happy

Amazon.co.uk: Furiously Happy

chronic illness, life, mental health, MS, Quotes

Pain and anxiety

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.