I ran. I ignored my increasing problems. I went to meetings. I ran errands. I drove here and there. I missed meals. I stressed and didn't even know it. I felt the weakness coming. I'm not a total idiot...just a stubborn one.
After walking down a path like I'd had one too many Tequila shots with a cane, I had to admit. Uh, this isn't quite right.
Therefore, as I made the morning step up to the scale and the hip flexor said, " Not today, Dear!", down I went. It was comical, actually. No, really! I'm glad there wasn't a camera to catch it, still.
With Multiple Sclerosis, you never know what's going to hit and when, when it will stop and correct itself or if it will, at all. It's very much like Life. Unpredictable. Yes. That's the word.
I ended up with an enjoyable 5-day stay at the hospital. Don't be sorry. We had the "fun" room with a great view of the river leading out to the Bay, my roommate and I! We were the room nurses and aides came to just to hang out. Although my neighbor was very ill, she was also very funny. That helped a lot. A nurse we laughed with often, was explaining to her about vasovagal syncope, which can happen when people strain trying to have a bowel movement and pass out. That's the short explanation. How we got on the subject is still unknown to me. My roomie who was older than me, whispers to her, "Is it like a really good orgasm?" With that, we all lost it!
Again, I take my hat off to nurses and all they do. I've never had a bad stay thanks to them. Now, doctors...
OK. They were great, too.. Except for the one night I opened my eyes in my bed to see a dark shadow of a man's figure standing over me like Count Dracula. He'd come around midnight to explain the answer to a question I'd had much earlier in the evening.
"Um...Thank you? The nurse explained it earlier to me. We're good. Good-night."
And with that he silently left the room. When we met again with his superior, I skipped the introductions, saying, yes. we'd met in the middle of the night. I thought I dreamt it. We all thought and said, like Batman was standing watch over me. Creep-eeeeeey.
I couldn't wait to get out of there! Not because of that but because of the desire to be home. Being in your own home is really taken for granted. I wanted to get out and give the bed to someone who needed it more than I did by then. I wanted to get home to my husband who was making two trips a day to see me. I wanted to get home to have control over my life and activities again. I wanted to get home...hold on to your seats...to get back into my routine! Yes! I've developed a routine, of sorts. Well, for me. And for the first time in my life. If you've read other blogs here, you know what I mean.
However, returning home from a hospital stay with a husband who is, lovingly attentive, a good nurse, and a good WARDEN, I find myself with cabin fever. No outdoor activity yet. No driving. No attending meetings as a Guardian ad litem. Not much of anything. Sigh. That I'm not used to, at all!
Two weeks of this was enough, even with visitors. Today, I went to Church. Alleluia! People! Real People not on Netflix or YouTube! I tried to contain my excitement and not appear like an escapee to others. It was good to see familiar faces. When I saw one, in particular, my heart melted like chocolate in the bottom of my purse.
It was a little girl, about 11, I'd met before with her grandmother months ago. We'd had a conversation about recent losses of family members, including the little girl's father. She was looking at CDs and books to purchase as the retreat ended to help her in her grief. Today, they approached me since I sat in the 'special' section without my walker. She was about to sing a song to one of the teachers and wanted to sing for me, too. The song was "I'll Always Be Here" and she's practicing to sing it for her grandmother's great-aunt's funeral. She sang along to a YouTube video on a phone there in the sanctuary.
Her voice was that of a child, beautiful and innocent, but maturely aware of her own losses in life. I cried. OF COURSE I CRIED. It's what I do. However, I smiled as I did, she saw as she looked up occasionally but didn't lose her place. Finished, she ran around to me, still seated, and we hugged. I had to tell her what a little angel she was and to hold on to her Faith, her beautiful heart and talent. Before she left, she ran back to me and hugged me tightly. I held her hands and told her that she is going to be a Saint. I told her the road is hard but she can make it. She smiled, knowingly, and agreed. I couldn't have had a better first day out!
Apparently, God saw what I'd been doing and knows I'm hard of hearing and stubborn. That's why he tried whispering to me to slow down. He said it louder, allowing things to get a little more difficult and I still didn't get the hint. Finally, He, literally, kicked my leg out from under me. OKAY! I get it, Lord! I'll rest a bit and let you handle what I was too egotistical to give to You, in the first place..
Everyone, listen for that whisper telling you go right or go left, rest or stop, go out or cancel the plans, say what's on your mind or keep your mouth closed. Call it your conscience, intuition, Voice of God, or common sense. Just learn to do what it says. It's usually right. And it'll keep you from having to use a walker.
Reboot Challenge? When you hear it, do it the first time. And don't trust bathroom scales!
After walking down a path like I'd had one too many Tequila shots with a cane, I had to admit. Uh, this isn't quite right.
Therefore, as I made the morning step up to the scale and the hip flexor said, " Not today, Dear!", down I went. It was comical, actually. No, really! I'm glad there wasn't a camera to catch it, still.
With Multiple Sclerosis, you never know what's going to hit and when, when it will stop and correct itself or if it will, at all. It's very much like Life. Unpredictable. Yes. That's the word.
I ended up with an enjoyable 5-day stay at the hospital. Don't be sorry. We had the "fun" room with a great view of the river leading out to the Bay, my roommate and I! We were the room nurses and aides came to just to hang out. Although my neighbor was very ill, she was also very funny. That helped a lot. A nurse we laughed with often, was explaining to her about vasovagal syncope, which can happen when people strain trying to have a bowel movement and pass out. That's the short explanation. How we got on the subject is still unknown to me. My roomie who was older than me, whispers to her, "Is it like a really good orgasm?" With that, we all lost it!
Again, I take my hat off to nurses and all they do. I've never had a bad stay thanks to them. Now, doctors...
OK. They were great, too.. Except for the one night I opened my eyes in my bed to see a dark shadow of a man's figure standing over me like Count Dracula. He'd come around midnight to explain the answer to a question I'd had much earlier in the evening.
"Um...Thank you? The nurse explained it earlier to me. We're good. Good-night."
And with that he silently left the room. When we met again with his superior, I skipped the introductions, saying, yes. we'd met in the middle of the night. I thought I dreamt it. We all thought and said, like Batman was standing watch over me. Creep-eeeeeey.
I couldn't wait to get out of there! Not because of that but because of the desire to be home. Being in your own home is really taken for granted. I wanted to get out and give the bed to someone who needed it more than I did by then. I wanted to get home to my husband who was making two trips a day to see me. I wanted to get home to have control over my life and activities again. I wanted to get home...hold on to your seats...to get back into my routine! Yes! I've developed a routine, of sorts. Well, for me. And for the first time in my life. If you've read other blogs here, you know what I mean.
However, returning home from a hospital stay with a husband who is, lovingly attentive, a good nurse, and a good WARDEN, I find myself with cabin fever. No outdoor activity yet. No driving. No attending meetings as a Guardian ad litem. Not much of anything. Sigh. That I'm not used to, at all!
Two weeks of this was enough, even with visitors. Today, I went to Church. Alleluia! People! Real People not on Netflix or YouTube! I tried to contain my excitement and not appear like an escapee to others. It was good to see familiar faces. When I saw one, in particular, my heart melted like chocolate in the bottom of my purse.
It was a little girl, about 11, I'd met before with her grandmother months ago. We'd had a conversation about recent losses of family members, including the little girl's father. She was looking at CDs and books to purchase as the retreat ended to help her in her grief. Today, they approached me since I sat in the 'special' section without my walker. She was about to sing a song to one of the teachers and wanted to sing for me, too. The song was "I'll Always Be Here" and she's practicing to sing it for her grandmother's great-aunt's funeral. She sang along to a YouTube video on a phone there in the sanctuary.
Her voice was that of a child, beautiful and innocent, but maturely aware of her own losses in life. I cried. OF COURSE I CRIED. It's what I do. However, I smiled as I did, she saw as she looked up occasionally but didn't lose her place. Finished, she ran around to me, still seated, and we hugged. I had to tell her what a little angel she was and to hold on to her Faith, her beautiful heart and talent. Before she left, she ran back to me and hugged me tightly. I held her hands and told her that she is going to be a Saint. I told her the road is hard but she can make it. She smiled, knowingly, and agreed. I couldn't have had a better first day out!
Apparently, God saw what I'd been doing and knows I'm hard of hearing and stubborn. That's why he tried whispering to me to slow down. He said it louder, allowing things to get a little more difficult and I still didn't get the hint. Finally, He, literally, kicked my leg out from under me. OKAY! I get it, Lord! I'll rest a bit and let you handle what I was too egotistical to give to You, in the first place..
Everyone, listen for that whisper telling you go right or go left, rest or stop, go out or cancel the plans, say what's on your mind or keep your mouth closed. Call it your conscience, intuition, Voice of God, or common sense. Just learn to do what it says. It's usually right. And it'll keep you from having to use a walker.
Reboot Challenge? When you hear it, do it the first time. And don't trust bathroom scales!
I'm happy you are back home, and you are doing better. I know this is a tough disease to handle. I applaud your efforts as you continue trying to live as normal(what the heck is that anyway) life. Yes, listen to your body, as that is the best thing you can do (other than prayer of course).
ReplyDeleteI will keep you in my prayers always. Holly
You are such a special lady!! Thank you!
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