chronic illness, life, MS, writing

Grant, the cabbie has the cure!

I wake up slightly hungover and more than ready to get home. Strung out after four days facing my own anxiety and the fact that some women never leave high school, I need some serious solitude. I phone a cab and wait outside in the crisp morning air, dying for coffee.

The cab pulls up and the white-haired driver gets out. Red suspenders hold up dirty brown pants and a stained blue dress shirt stretches over an enormous belly. Sparkling blue eyes magnify curiosity behind enormous glasses.

“Where are you off to this fine morning, young lady?” He peeps at me in the rear view mirror and tips his grimy white baseball cap.

“Home to Victoria. I missed my bus yesterday so I was staying with a friend.” I’m taking shallow breaths because the air in the cab is custard thick with that sickly-sweet old man smell. It doesn’t feel right to open the window. I don’t know why.

“And what do you do in Victoria, young lady?”

“Well, I’m a teacher by trade but I don’t teach anymore. Now I’m a writer.” There, I said it without air quotes. Yay me!

“And why is it that you no longer teach, may I ask?”

“I have MS. I would love to —”

“I know how to cure that. It’s one of two things.”

Jesus. “Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely. It’s either a yeast overgrowth or a magnesium deficiency.”

Haven’t heard those before.

I try to stare out the window as he pontificates nonsensically but he keeps eyeballing me through the rear view.

He tells me he sells essential oils and I want to laugh, but I can barely breathe.

The longest ten-minute cab ride finally ends. He hands me a card with the words ‘wellness advocate’ under his name before he gets out to open the trunk.

He lets me get my own suitcase as he starts telling me about his prostate. Seriously. I finally cut him off and say I need coffee. He makes sure to tell me that he’s going to get coffee too, but in the car.

I’m sitting in Starbucks with my headphones on and see him drive by, glasses peering through the window. Several minutes later, I spot him in my peripheral vision. He’s come inside and he’s trying to get my attention. Oh for the love of all that’s holy.

Thank god for technology.

**********************************************************************************

This is an excerpt from a short story I wrote after the writing retreat I went to in September. This dude just may pop up in my fiction at some point – who needs to make characters up when these kinds of people show up in your life? I wish my powers of description could do him justice, he truly was something else. His card is still on our fridge – haha!

Just to be clear:

1) There is NO CURE for multiple sclerosis.

2) Warriors find it really annoying when people suggest they know how to fix us, if we just follow their latest fad. Most of us have tried many, many different therapies and medications. MS is a complex disease that affects every person in a different way on a different day. If you have something to suggest, I’m all ears – if it’s done with sensitivity and respect.

Do you have stories of people giving you the magic cure? I’d love to hear them!

Have a wonderful week!

❤️ Amanda

life, writing

Resting is not selfish

My cup is feeling a bit empty and stained these days so I’m taking time to do things, and not do anything, in order to build up a few spoons and not end up in a relapse.

Below are some current pictures of our garden. Whether I sit in silent contemplation or take on some simple weeding, the garden is my sanctuary.

I’m off to my other piece of paradise, Willows Beach, also known as my office. It’s my favourite place to write, and my fiction has been stagnating at the bottom of my empty cup for the last few days so I’m hoping the words will flow today as I look out at Oak Bay Harbour and Marina.

Take time to do the things that recharge your spirit, and don’t allow those niggling feelings of guilt any space at all. She says to herself, over and over and over…

Have a wonderful week!

❤️ Amanda

life

Wild West Coast

View of the beach emerging from the private trail from our campsite.
View of the beach emerging from the private trail from our campsite. Photo: M. Cockayne

I am so incredibly fortunate to live on Vancouver Island. As I said in my last post, I was off camping last week at Pachena Bay Campground which is on the west coast near Bamfield, BC. The drive is an adventure in itself, two and half hours on dusty, bumpy logging roads from Port Alberni. Every teeth-chattering, slow-going minute is worth it once you arrive, though.

As it turned out, the first day was the nicest weather we had so it wasn’t exactly the tropical vacation we hoped for. When you’re camping in a coastal temperate rainforest, you take your chances. Instead of sweltering in the heat wave the rest of the island and most of North America it seems, was suffering, we were in our layers of fleece, toques and rain jackets.  Like most MSers, I’d rather a bit of fog, wind and misty rain than having the carnival of symptoms start when my body temperature rises.

Fog descends into the trees, creeping in from off the ocean.
Change in the weather, the fog rolls in.
Fog obscuring the tops of trees at the edge of a sandy beach with driftwood.
Fog is a regular occurrence but often blows off later in the afternoon or early evening.

When the tide is out, the enormous beach triples in size, impossible to capture in a photo. One day, we walked far out along the beach exploring tide pools towards the beginning of The West Coast Trail. We were going to walk a bit of the trail until we got to some of the ladders, which we have done in the past. Almost there, I looked down and saw this:

Fresh bear tracks on a wet sand beach on the west coast of Vancouver Island.
Would you turn around or take your chances? Photo: M.Cockayne

Fresh bear tracks leading down a wet beach on the west coast of Vancouver IslandThe beautiful patterns in the sand with the fresh bear tracks leading away made the moment magical. And sped up our pace on the way back! Photo: M. Cockayne


We knew we were in bear and cougar country but seeing fresh evidence that we were right on the heels of Baloo? Yes, we turned around and headed back towards the main beach. ☺️ (Photo credits to Miranda Cockayne as my dinosaur of an iPhone died.)

Four days and nights of living in the forest, sharing secrets and too many laughs with one of my longest (not oldest, see what I did there? 😉) and dearest friends, building fires on the beach, watching the ospreys and eagles diving into the ocean, unplugging from the world (for the most part, they have wifi at the main office now), and plugging into the inspiration I always feel when I remove myself from the manmade and reconnect with the natural world.

Old growth cedar trees, ferns, bridge, west coast trail

It’s even worth the week of recovery from not sleeping and just being out of my usual routine. No matter how careful I am about eating well and hydrating, I never sleep well when camping or away from my own bed, actually. Are other MSers and chronically ill people the same? Does a change in your routine inevitably exacerbate your symptoms?

One thing I will make sure we do next year, is go on a Kiixin Tour.

“Kiix̣in is the site of a 19th-century village and fortress that exhibits evidence of occupation dating to 1000 B.C.E. Today, it remains a sacred site to the present-day Huu-ay-aht First Nations.”

Thank you to the Huu-ay-aht First Nations for sharing your amazing piece of paradise!

Have a wonderful week everyone!

❤️ Amanda

Health

The journey to diagnosis: Why so long?

I want to talk about the journey to ms diagnosis. For some, the trip is brutally short. Bam! They wake up and their whole left side is paralyzed, or they’re blind in one eye. Terrifying. No question that any person would head to the hospital, or at least the doctor and they would be taken seriously.

Usually, a trip to the ER would mean an MRI, possible lumbar puncture (sooo glad I avoided that!) and subsequent diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. Some get picky and call it CIS (clinically isolated syndrome) until the monster rears its ugly head again, hence the multiple in multiple sclerosis.

I suspect many people in this position start connecting the dots of other strange symptoms they’ve had for years, once the inciting incident of the diagnosis journey appears, with the exception of those diagnosed very young, of course. I can’t really speak to that though, because that was not my journey.

What about those who present with weird virus-y symptoms?

The first episode of fatigue, brain fog and vertigo when I was 22, had me sleeping in the back of my orange Westfalia on the streets of Puebla, Mexico, alone, peeing in the sink for three days. I figured it was a strange Mexican virus – thankfully not from Montezuma!

The second incident two years later, in Lagos, Portugal, I was stuck in a tent in a cinderblock wall campground, with stereos blaring on every side, peeing (sometimes unsuccessfully) in bottles, in front of my boyfriend. I knew then he was a keeper! 😊💕 Okay, bladder issues are certainly an ms symptom but enough about urine!

A couple of months before my first relapse. I sold the van to my brother. He never knew this story. Sorry dude! 😬

I had one more relapse the following year, during my final teaching practicum. The monster’s timing is exquisite. The doctors that I saw during these times, in the early 1990s, checked for parasites and infections because of the travelling link but when they found nothing, they shrugged and pushed me out the door.

Then, the monster slept. With the exception of some ear-splitting tinnitus when we lived in New Zealand which was ascribed to stress (believable as we were living on a student’s income halfway around the world with a newborn), I had no relapses for about 13 years.

After the birth of our third child and subsequently returning to work part-time, I started having these weird ‘blips’, that I again thought was a virus. Pretty soon, I realized it was hitting me every six months or so, knocking me out for longer each time.

There was no paralysis. No blindness. No alarming symptoms that justified an emergency room visit. Just an exhaustion that felt like the power of gravity had increased ten thousandfold, a weird bubbly feeling in my head and an all over body ache that made me feel like I’d been poisoned.

I saw so many doctors during this time, and every single one of them listened to my symptoms, frowned, shrugged and told me to stop working so hard. Or maybe I was depressed. Or it was just a virus. Or it was idiopathic. That last word, meaning ‘they just can’t figure it the hell out’ was said by a very tall, male doctor looming over me in his office, forcing me to crane my neck to look up at him. The subtext of his message was ‘get over it, lady’.

Two problems

I have two problems with this. First, the number one symptom of ms is fatigue, which was my number one symptom. Also, I live in Canada which has one of the highest rates of ms in the world (MS Society of Canada estimates 1 in 340 people), yet NOT ONE of the 15-20 doctors I saw ever mentioned it.

I don’t think this is solely an issue related to the difficulty of diagnosing multiple sclerosis because it is such a misunderstood, unpredictable, individual disease. It’s a women’s health issue generally. I have heard so many stories about women’s health concerns being dismissed or downplayed or worse, drugged by overworked, distracted doctors.

Why is this? Do doctors really think women have nothing better to do than come to their office to ‘whine’ about something that’s ‘all in their head’? I’ve gotten equally dismissive treatment from both men and women doctors, so it’s not a patriarchal problem. It’s as though those that enter the hallowed halls of physician-dom are doomed to condescend to women, believing they’re choosing to spend their lives pretending to feel like shit, just to get attention.

I never watched the Golden Girls, but this clip explains it brilliantly.

You go, Bea! I would like to go back and have it out with some of the doctors who made me feel ashamed and ridiculous for pursuing answers when I knew something was wrong.

Conclusion

I am sharing my personal diagnosis story today because awareness is still so lacking about this ugly disease, despite how common it is. When I was undiagnosed, I searched all over the internet for people sharing stories like mine and found very, very few. Also, I think women need to support each other in managing their health, and that starts with conversation.

If you or anyone you know is experiencing strange symptoms, don’t ignore them. Advocate for yourself, you know your body better than anyone else can. Don’t let doctors blow you off and don’t stop searching until you get the answers you need.

Doctors hate it when you use ‘Dr. Google’, and you do have to be really, really careful. But until we sort out a healthcare system where doctors aren’t working on an assembly line, it seems to be the most knowledgeable, and least condescending doctor around. No offence to any of the doctors out there with integrity, I just haven’t met any of you.

Do you have a crazy diagnosis story? Please share, I’d love to hear from you.

❤️ Amanda

By the way, it was a naturopath that finally listened to my story and first mentioned the words multiple sclerosis. I was finally diagnosed 23 years after my first relapse.

Poetry

FEAR

First of all, I have to acknowledge the overwhelming positive support I got for my last post from my various ms ‘families’. For an introvert that overanalyses every social interaction (yeah, I think they call that social anxiety 🤔 ), it took me a long time to put myself out in cyber world and open myself to potential criticism. Not that I expect rave reviews, constructive feedback is always welcome. But we all know that feeling of ‘what if everybody hates it?’ Right? Everybody feels that, right? 😉

Anyway, thank you to everybody who clicked and read and commented! I am astounded at the support and encouragement, and so grateful to be a member of such amazing, caring groups.

This is a poem I wrote when I was amping myself up to share my writing. Fear is another of those emotions, like guilt, that many of us try to ignore or fight against. There is a tendency to distract ourselves from the ‘negative’ emotions in life but when we face them head on they provide the counterbalance to the positive emotions we all strive for. You can’t have one without the other.

While fear is a universal emotion, it develops a particularly strong flavour when one receives a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. Being told you have an incurable neurodegenerative disease, that nobody knows what causes it and there is no way to predict what damage will be inflicted on your body, introduces a whole new level of trepidation. Add to that the daily adventure of never knowing what symptoms might crop up to stop you or slow you down, and the accumulation of disabilities that strip away the identity you have built up over years or decades, and the fear can be paralysing.

I’m coming up on the third anniversary (that so does not seem the right word) of my diagnosis. Three years since I left the classroom. Three years coming to terms with my new normal, trying to heal and to carve a new identity for myself. I realize now that fear was the main thing holding me back from moving on to a new chapter. It’s still there, making my palms sweat as I type this, imagining putting out another piece of myself. But I will face the fear, because if there is one thing I have learned over the past three years, stagnating is not an option and pushing through the fear is the only way to get to the light.

❤️

FEAR

Creeping

Lurking

Hiding behind the mask

The mask of fine

It paralyses without acknowledgement

So ingrained we don’t even realize

The control it has

How powerless we are

Unless we face it

Under the bed

In the closet

The dark

Untried adventures

Nebulous

Heart racing

Skin crawling

Sweat dripping

Light on

Distract

All is fine

Everything is fine

Fine but stagnant

If you let it overpower

Stuck in your small world

Beating against the bars

The bars you hold onto

Justifying

Numbing

Distracting

Wilting

Fight for the light

The dark will always be there

Give it a nod

Let yourself feel it

Then

Move on past

Move into the light

So much brighter

Reflecting the dark

Dark loses power in the light

The light is stronger for the dark

ALC – 17/05/18