Since January 1, I’ve been in MS hell.
Along with MS fatigued to celebrate the new year I sustained second and third-degree burns to my left leg due to the lovely symptom of MS fatigue. At his point, a month later with four-inch deep busing, nerve damage and the ugly scarring that may ensue, I’m just in one of those moments of “f—- it all.”
If you could only understand…
I find it insultingly hilarious that little did Ms. Attendant know this week has been fire and brimstone for my lower back, legs, and nerves. A relapse that started Sunday has continued its teeth-gritting pain on my lower back and legs, and for that small run to the tax collector’s office, I planned to muster up courage and walk in without a cane not be judged by a disease, a disability you can’t see.
I remember like it was yesterday, with blood on my hands and knees, tears welling in my eyes, I thought “I will never get through this.”
A year with MS has taught me a lot about myself. What my body will and will not do, but most importantly what I will and will not accept from this disease.
I was at a point in my life where “I needed to get out!” In a way, this is a declaration to a new me. Forecfully so, but for the better.
Saturday it hit me that there are things I can no longer do. Whether temporarily or permanently is still to be determined. To fight MS is to punch at air, every day is different and unexpected.
Let us not forget that solace is not privileged to everyone.
In two weeks time, I have attended three events that have highlighted--exposed my disability--MS.