The Sounds of My Challenges
Good morning! Ahhhh... I see the sun peeking through the blinds and hear the chorus of chirps from the birds who’ve been awake since daybreak. I begin my slow, onerous trek to the commode on heavy, stiff legs and limited sight. Finally… Plop! I made it - albeit with no time to spare, but I made it. Phew!
Though I absolutely love my walk-in shower, it’s the effort getting to it and the post-shower attributes that I abhor. Ughhh! My daily hygiene ‘adventure’ begins. Crash! would be my walker when the wheel collides with the shower chair as I clumsily walk in. I’m just relieved it’s not my toe this time. Once inside and getting the water temperature just right, now, I can at last sit... slam! onto the shower chair, I collapse to rest a bit before getting started. At the conclusion of my shower, after thoroughly tiring myself... Clang goes the handheld showerhead - the strength I need to hang it on its brace has depleted, so it falls to the floor. Whew! I make it back to my trusty lift chair and sit with a thud. I am washed yet weary, fresh yet fatigued.
Aarghh! I’m home alone and hear the chime of the doorbell. I am suddenly faced with the need to make a quick decision: do I take the easy route and await the random visitor’s return when I have someone here who’d be capable of easily receiving them on my behalf? Or, do I opt for the arduous alternative of hoisting myself up with laborious grunts to begin my slow shuffle with the help of my trusty walker, thus risking that my efforts will have been in vain if the unknown visitor departs before I’ve reached my destination. Sighhh... decisions such as these are dependent on the type of day, or even minute, that MS has afforded me.
Whether I'll be able to sleep
A hearty yawn escapes my mouth. Moments later, my eyelids begin to flutter. All indicators that it's time to catch some zzzz’s. It's a mystery if I will be able to sleep the whole night through or if I will awaken ‘bright-eyed and bushy-tailed’ in the nights wee hours feeling blah and longing to return to the slumber and snore state once again. To prepare, click, I turn the television off. I need complete silence. Whir goes my lift chair as I recline it to the sleep position. Goodnight. And if insomnia has taken a reprieve, I'll awaken to the tweet of the birds singing their good morning melody.
An onomatopoeia is a word that actually looks like the sound it makes, and we can almost hear those sounds as we read. I've used several of these words to describe exemplars of my daily obstacles.
Do you hear what I hear?
I have the hardest time with my MS during the following season: