MS, love, and my life

  me and the kids back in 2013 ~ Maui, Hi Tomorrow is my follow up with my neurologist. We will be going over my latest MRI results, we'll talk about the new lesions, and what he recommends (more strongly this time, I'm guessing). I was scared the other day when I last spoke with him...Jesus, only eight days ago? I felt that maybe I should take his advice and go on one of the MS meds. Why was I still wrestling with this idea so intensely?  I decided to listen to my intuition, and first do a little more research. I looked at all the meds offered.  I found a site that not only compared the 56 or so meds intended to help MS, but it also included written reviews of the medications by others with MS. In fact, the med my neuro suggested for me has 115 reviews. Jackpot! It's one thing to listen to what your healthy doctor has to say about a drug and its side-effects, but if I want the truth, I know better than to trust a medically trained expert. For me to believe

shaking my fortune-telling 8 ball for the answer I want~ Damn. Sometimes this happens, right? We don't get our way. But for whatever reason, I never ever think it's going to be a part of my story. Which is funny, because historically it has ALWAYS been a part of my story. I love my trusty optimism. Always off the mark, but consistently by my side. Talk about blind loyalty. I went two days ago for my MRI with contrast. Brain only. What this means is that the techs first set me up with a regular MRI where I go into the loud banging doughnut hole looking machine, laying as still as possible, with my face in a close fitting helmet of sorts. I have earplugs in and noise eliminating earphones over them to quiet down the sound. For a contrast exam, they first put in an IV port and then after the first part of my exam, they roll me back out, plug in the feed for some saline/dye mix, and then quickly roll me back in and start the machine back up. I am not to move. I'v

laying in bed with my amazing little girl - early March, 2017 * a facebook post from a close friend from high school, after his visit from Eugene, Or March 13th, 2017 So sweet to see you today. I'm impressed with your new home and your state of affairs. Don't forget to reach out in the tiniest of ways when you just can't do it all. We will help in any way we can. (I speak confidently for the collective 'we' that all love you- am I right?) No one can do it alone. All of us are smarter than the one of us. Big love to you, Madeline. Keep on keepin' on. The very week of my initial MS attack, a tribe of friends and neighbors helped move my family. Literally move homes. Luckily, we only moved upstairs into the corner unit of our vintage 4-plex, but we needed lots of hands. We had already signed the rental papers and scheduled movers for the big stuff. We hadn't expected I'd get so sick. The 'new' unit was completely bathed in sunlight, h

my baby girl ~ years and years ago My little girl is going to college this year. I repeat, my tiny little sweet baby girl is going to COLLEGE this year?! The means that the past 18 years have passed by, and the child that once lived inside my belly is out in the world as an independent adult.  First a little bit about how it feels to have my first leave the nest. Okay, I'm going to be honest (why change the tenor of my blog now?) Before a few months ago, I truly believed that I would NOT become one of those over-emotional parents who goes through the pains of 'empty nest syndrome'. I thought that since she was only moving across the river, well, I would be spared any kind of unnecessary drama . Nothing like a healthy dose of humbling. It feels as if a string of my DNA has been carefully pulled out of my wiring and I'm left a little empty. It's not disabling, but it's present.  I notice I miss her often. I mean, somedays I'm busy enough i

my sweet Stella ~ sorry now that I let her go The other day when I was talking to my step dad, I mentioned that I have felt a little 'blocked' with my blog. Feels like I've pretty much covered my entire life already, and I can't think of anything else to write about. He suggested maybe I could post some lyrics I've written. I like this idea. I wrote this song for a smart, loving, funny,  and  freakishly beautiful young woman I met in my second year of sobriety. She had five months sober. We became fast friends. Only a few months later, I watched as her entire life unraveled. It took only three weeks for her relapse to pull her under. Only THREE WEEKS. Everything she owned, she'd pawned. She'd been evicted. She started stripping for money for her drug of choice. She had collected a new group of friends.  She would still call on me from time to time, and I'd always answer. The last time we spoke, she told me she was returning to Texas b