Complain, Complain, Complain.....
Every single night, when I go to bed, I pray that tomorrow will be a better day. A day free from pain, fatigue, balance and cognitive issues. With MS the list of symptoms goes on and on. I'm not asking for much right? I feel like most days all I ever do is complain. I complain about being tired even though I just slept nine hours. I complain about the spasticity in my legs, feet and hands, wondering if it will ever go away. I complain about the loud sounds around me that make me be in physical pain. Like my grandson screaming, being at a concert or anywhere there are lots of people. Things so many people take for granted. God bless my poor husband who listens to me go on and on about every little thing. "Look at my hands", I'll tell him, "don't they look different?" They feel so weird, I can't even tell if I'm actually feeling things anymore when I hold them. He just looks at me and smiles and says no, he doesn't see anything, that my hands still look the same. I wish you could feel what I feel for just an hour I tell him. He always agrees and says me too, but it really doesn't make me feel any better or anymore understood, but the sincerity in him warms my heart. Years ago, when my MS was somewhat manageable. When I could go for days and weeks on end and pretend that I was a normal person, I rarely complained. I would tell my husband I'm good, but if I do complain about a symptom that means it's really major. Now it seems like every day there is something major. I sometimes just look at my hands and legs and think whose body do you belong to anyway? Why are you doing this to me? Why has my body turned so violently against me. I try and do everything right, exercise, eat healthy, get enough sleep, try to keep stress at a minimum, which by far is the hardest thing. So, at night I pray for a better day. At night I imagine waking up and feeling better, clearer thinking, less pain, doing housework and yard work without having to take a break every ten minutes. I tell myself go one day and just don't complain. suck it all in and keep it to yourself, but I never succeed in doing this lately. I have people say, oh it could be worse, and I know this is true, but for me that is such little solace in how I feel. Don't get me wrong, I don't give up and lay around. Quite the opposite actually. In my mind if I slow down I could lose what I have left and I'll fight for that. I muddle through most days, slow at times, but always moving forward. I make lists, I give myself mini goals for the day, for the week and I tackle them at my own pace. I am always hopeful that my day will come when there is a new medicine, procedure or cure will be found. I am seventeen plus years into this disease and I am acutely aware of all that I have lost, physically, mentally and emotionally. I don't need any reminders, I know it when I get up in the morning and stumble my way to the bathroom on stiff legs and feet. I'm reminded when I go to make my coffee and drop the spoon several times before I can figure out how to grasp it tightly enough. I'm reminded when I bend over to pet my puppy dogs and pray that I can still somewhat feel their soft fur with these numb hands of mine. I am so very thankful for a patient husband who listens without judgment, who reads up on all the new medicine and treatments so he can talk to my neurologist and understand everything he says and who takes off work for every doctor's appointment and MRI just to support me. I am thankful for my family, my friends, all the wonderful people I meet along the way of my journey with MS. Lastly, even though it may not sound like it, I am thankful for each new day that I am given. I will continue to move forward at this snail's pace that is mine and I will look for the tiniest bright spots in every day.
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