Felling the Effects of MS

As we move through this second week of the Easter season, I have been floating in a happy place that I have not been in a while.  Everything seemed to be gelling, despite my limited physicality and more sore and tighter than usual muscles.  Easter Sunday dinner with my dad was wonderful.  Jalen was working hard to get all of his work done.  Despite being told at the last minute, things worked in our favor for us to be able to attend the athletic banquet with Jordan.  I had a lunch date with a good friend, and I got to see Jordan again at the end of the week as we coordinated our schedules to go vote.  We even made plans to throw a little food on the grill over the weekend.  I was tired, but I got chances to rest and slept pretty well, which made me feel better.  It just felt good to be involved in life and doing things, getting out of the house, and having somewhere to go other than the grocery store.  Yes, I felt pretty happy.

Then, it happened.  I fell, pretty hard too.  This past Monday morning, ready to start my day, and coming back to the couch, I fell.  It just seemed I lost my balance somehow, went ever so slightly atilt, and bam!  I was on the floor.  I knocked over my ice water, the clock, and all of my coupons.  I barely missed hitting my laptop, which I had sitting on the floor in front of me, ready to be booted up for me to begin typing.  Like a tall piece of timber, I had been felled.  Here I was, sprawled on the floor, all alone just after Jalen had left for school, feeling totally dejected.  Damn this MS!  I hate getting the wakeup call that says, “Slow your roll, woman.  Don’t you know that you can’t move like that anymore?”  I just sat there for a minute and cried, feeling totally sorry for myself, not to mention, the impact of hitting the floor with a thud.

I tried to get up.  I couldn’t get a grip on the floor because when I fell, my slides flew off my feet.  I was trying to grab the back of the sofa cushion so that I could pull myself up, but I just kept sliding back, unable to get enough traction to pull upward.  My body was also sort of twisted, so even though I was in a sitting position, it was still very awkward to move.  I shifted so that I was sitting flat on my butt, but then all I could do was stretch my legs out.  Trying to roll onto my knees was painful.  I started to panic.  “What am I going to do?  I can’t sit here all day.  Oh my stars!  I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”  Laugh, cry, cuss, laugh some more.  What am I going to do?  My frustration began to mount, which makes moving an even more impossible task with each fuming breath.

 I called my husband, even though he was at work, over an hour away.  I didn’t want or expect him to come rushing home; I just needed to talk to him so that I could re-center myself.  Just hearing his voice telling me to calm down, get myself together, and try again gave me the confidence that I needed to boost my fragile ego, which was plastered on the floor beside me.  He even made me laugh, which was the way he captured my heart when we first met, how he could always make me smile, even in sad times.  That is one thing that binds us together—no matter what, we can make each other laugh.  And when I am laughing, I can’t help but feel better. 

I hung up the phone, and I just sat there, thinking.  I was on the floor, not sure if I could get up, but strangely, I felt blessed.  I started thanking God that though I would have some black and blue bruises, I didn’t break any bones or anything.  I have a husband who loves me dearly, who works so hard to make his family happy.  He’s not a perfect man, but he is a very good man; you’d be hard pressed to find one better.  His heart is so beautiful and kind, just like his mama.  I thought about the fun day I had with my friend Rhonda, who had treated me to lunch last week, and a divine drink, a Malibu Hurricane (sooo good!).  She even gave me a signed copy of her debut novel, The First Nine Lives of Isabella LaFelini (you should get a copy; it’s good!).  I started smiling about Jordan's and Jalen’s latest accomplishments—Jordan, an outstanding basketball player (#6 in the regional conference in rebounding) and a budding thespian, and Jalen, a temperamental but awesome artist who has the good hearted envy of his big brother over how well he draws at age 12 (Jalen draws circles around Jordan, literally and figuratively!)—and how proud I am of both of them.  Despite the struggles of living with MS, I really have much to be thankful for and I have no good reason for feeling all sorry for myself and wallowing in self-pity.

As all of these memories and blessings floated through my mind, I began to feel brighter, a little lighter.  The embarrassment I felt from falling, even though I was alone, the helplessness in my struggle to get up off of the floor, the wallowing in despair from the ravages of MS on my body and my independent spirit… all of these burdens of negativity began to fade away from me, and the happy karma of my husband’s voice enveloped me.  Like a mighty lumberjack, I felt the crack of each timber as I felled the effects of MS in my own personal forest where only I hear the sound of the trees as they fall.  I found my shoes and slid them on.  I inched my way on the floor, lifting up and scooting until I got to the end of the couch, and rolled up on my knees.  Ignoring the pain I felt, I pulled myself up by grabbing the back part of the sofa’s arm, and after a couple of attempts I was able to pull myself up enough to roll onto the couch and reposition myself.  Hahaha, MS!  Take that!  I turned the tables on the cruel monster, felling its effects on my life just as swiftly as I had been felled a half hour earlier.  I called Duke back and assured him that I was okay.  I could hear him sigh with relief.  I finished fidgeting into a comfortable position, pulled my fuzzy red blanket around me, and got some well-deserved and much needed slumber.

Tiiiiimberrrrr!  Jan—1.  MS—0.  Felling the effects of MS is hard work, but it feels good to win.  I am a winner, and I am back in my happy place.