The Chair

Yes, here we go again.

🎙️ Two years ago I fell asleep on the floor and woke up with one operating leg and the other semi-operating.

Then, I told my guy to spray paint the walker gold. Because why not? Disability is handled in a myriad of ways. I handle mine best in gold 🤷🏾‍♀️. 

The destruction of myelin and miscommunication of my brain to my spine  put me here. Medicine today is saying “wait for prescriptions or surgeries to catch up to determine if you can ever walk again” 🤷. 

I’ve been learning more into the Bible (old Ashley would never) and wholistic measures. I take too many medications for my liking, so taking a detour I feel is needed.

If I am to get out of this wheelchair it will take more than prayer. I also need to put in the EFFORT, (1) physical therapy, (2) work outs on my own, and (3) limiting the processed foods and smokes.

Never discrediting the disability community but having paralyzed legs, MS symptoms: aggressive insomnia, hard to sleep at night, dead tired in the morning, fatigue, no energy and dead to the world by 11a, urinary incontinence, depression—this shit is for the birds. This journey is hard, so I live it unapologetically.

This chair, these legs I keep telling myself “nothing lasts forever.”