Expressions of Joy

Feel like dancing? C'mon, let loose. Let the music inspire you!

I'm feeling so good these days (plural - can you believe it!!!!!!). I can hardly sit still. Yesterday I felt so good that I actually tortured my family by dancing in the kitchen while making dinner. With the blinds open! <shocking> I couldn't resist moving along with my new playlist. Moving rapidly became "dancing".

At first I felt very awkward and my movements were uncoordinated. What an understatement - uncoordinated! Then, as I became more comfortable and relaxed, the reflection on the fridge door of my feet and legs began to transform into something that resembled dancing. Odd dancing perhaps, but dancing nonetheless. Almost.

As momentum built, I kicked off my slippers, removed my blanket (aka: sweater) and my feet began moving more easily. More than just my feet felt liberated - my arms and hands were more expressive. About half an hour into the display of my... ummm rockin' moves, Daniel actually commented "Mom, you're a good dancer".

"Gee, thanks." <laughing>

Months ago, a nurse told me that it would take a full year to come to terms with my new reality. At the time I honestly thought that I had reconciled myself with MS, in relation to both my present and future. I had everything under control. I have MS. What's there to deal with? Just get on with life. Suck it up Buttercup. It hasn't been that simple though. While my diagnosis certainly hasn't changed and my symptoms will never fully go away, I have changed. Really, I have. I am comfortable in my own skin. I love myself again. Corny, but true. I feel like I've metamorphosed into someone completely different.

I had been looking at MS as though having it involved great loss and personal sacrifice. Loss of freedom, independence, financial stability, physical movement, happiness, joy... As my MS anniversary approaches, I'm beginning to recognise and value the "mores". More compassion, focus, appreciation of what "is", acceptance of life, tolerance, meaningful relationships, freedom in expressing my individuality, contentment and feeling grounded. All good things, right?

So, don't laugh if you see me dancing for the simple joy of it. Trust me, it won't look like I'm dancing for any other reason than for the fun of it! Come over and dance with me. It feels so good to let go. To quote Dr. Seuss "Those that mind, don't matter and those that matter, don't mind."

Here's my latest playlist in case you're interested:

The Void by Metric
Delight (feat. Octavia Rose) by Jamie Berry
Up in the Clouds (Mr Flash Mix) by Darwin Deez
Madness by Muse
Lickety Split by Jamie Berry
Bangarang by Skrillex
Carry On by Fun.
Home by Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros
Marvellous by Jamie Berry
We are Young (feat. Janelle Monae) by Fun.
Extraordinaire by Joel Plaskett
One Foot by Fun.
Out of My Mind by Jamie Berry


So, while my Copaxone shots are still painful, my left hand control and vision aren't what they once were, I can still dance, sing and enjoy myself. Whatever you do, don't feel badly for me. I've moved on. I've shed my ill-fitting-tweed-coat past and have moved on to my sleek-new-leather-jacket future.

100th Injection - Facing the Future

To say I had a difficult time with my shot on Sunday is an understatement.

Why was it so difficult? Perhaps it was because it was my 100th shot. Perhaps it was the fear of the pain that rises like a flame about fifteen seconds after the shot. Perhaps it was in fear of the injection being extra painful - injections into my thighs often don't go well (either too deep or too shallow, both of which result in pain for the entire day). All the "perhapses" aside, wrapping my mind around potentially having to do this each and every day for the foreseeable future is likely what tripped me up.

A few seconds after my injection, the dreaded burning pain began. At least the meds didn't bubble up just under my skin like they did last weekend. I managed to limp in excruciating pain down the hall, put the clipped needle in its disposal container, grab an ice pack, limp back down the hall and laid down on the bed sniffling. Sniffling rapidly descended into crying. I guess the pillow didn't quite muffle my sobs - after a few minutes Daryle appeared at the side of the bed. When he asked what was wrong, I replied with "I just can't imagine doing this every day for the rest of my life..." sob, sniff, sniff. What a self pitying mess I've become. Picking up a piece of clean laundry from the heap on the bed, I blew my nose. See? Self pitying mess doesn't begin to describe the wreckage of the person that was once me.

Daryle's reaction upon witnessing my despair surprised me: he didn't get cross, he didn't walk away. He just laid down and cuddled with me - didn't even jump up when the sobs subsided. He didn't offer any comments or empty reassurances that things will get better. Somehow he knew that I didn't need pity or false hope, I just needed comforting.

Eventually the boys appeared and began to climb on us, happily refocusing our attention.

An afternoon spent at Daniel's wind-up soccer party and the final game of his soccer tournament continued to buoy my mood. We took Daniel to the Jaegerhof for a celebration dinner - he stuck with his team for the entire soccer season!

My mood descended again as we listened to the radio on the way home - my future again confronted me. A program about MS was discussing two theories: that MS is due to a vitamin D deficiency and that a "cure" might be had by having the CCSVI liberation treatment. As I'm on the fence with regard to both those topics, I thought it would be of interest to listen. The documentary's patient had said that five years ago she'd been diagnosed with MS and her life hadn't been significantly impacted by the disease. However, debilitating pain had set in over the last year, forcing her to leave her job and move back home to receive full time care from her mother. While I'm sure the rest of the program was very interesting, I was unable to focus. I kept wondering if that was what my future held. Disability, pain, dependency?

Ultimately time will tell what my future holds. Until then I guess I'll do my best to keep the beast at bay: keep "shooting up", devouring my kale smoothies and trying to maintain as much normalcy as possible.