(Didn't want anyone thinking that I was in any way referring to the season, which we're (luckily!!!) not in any longer, this time around...)

Tuesday, I fell. Outside. With help. Ow.

It was an hour or so away from my physical therapy appointment. Despite not having gone since, um, December ... after falling that time inside on their throw rug in front of the coat closet ... I sucked it up and decided that I was going to brave that evil throw rug, that it wasn't going to let me down again, ha HA!

So, I got dressed, covering up anything that might need to be covered in this Denmark cold. Brrrr... Did I say, 'Brrrr' already? It bears repeating, as it's f*€&ing cold here.

Once downstairs and out at the street -- which took some time, having to walk from our apartment building past a few more to get to the street -- I rang for a taxi. It didn't take long until one showed up, and the driver jumped out to assess -- maybe that needs a few more 'ass'es in it, and you'll see why -- the situation.

When he arrived, I'd been sitting on the seat of my wheeled walker thing, brakes on and all. I stood up and arranged myself, made sure my hat was on, double-checked that my mittens were still in the pouch attached to my wheelie thingie, and took off the brakes of the wheelie (well, if I have to call it anything, I suppose this will do ... just as long as I don't name it, as then you know that I'm toddling down the road to Crazy Town)  so that I could cross over to the taxi, which was parked maybe three metres away.

The driver came over to help me, or at least I thought he did, and maybe he thought he did, too. He put his hands on my wheelie and started pulling and pushing it, faster than my feet could keep up. I wrestled it from his grip once, gathered myself and forged on ... only to have him put his hands on it again, to push it faster than I could keep up with. Almost to the edge of the first sidewalk, I figured that I had to keep on with it.

Between the first and the second sidewalks, there's gravel and dirt and such. I was trying to walk over it, and the driver was pulling me onwards, when ... I don't know exactly what happened, but I tripped or something, and I grabbed furiously for something to keep me upright, but ... it wasn't there, and I fell, partly on the wheelie, partly on the gravel.

There I was, the wheelie partly overturned and partly beneath me, and the taxi driver holding onto it still, saying something about how I needed to stand up straight. Fuck, if I could stand up straight to begin with, I wouldn't have to use this thing to help me walk!

I remember trying to stand, but something happened, I don't know what, but I went ass over teakettle to the ground, hitting my head and shoulder and hip and ...


The driver asked me whether I needed an ambulance and, when I shook my head (mistake, as that only made me dizzier) and said that I didn't, asked me whether I was going to keep on going.

This was one of those times I count as lucky and fortunate that the company that Per works for is on the same street as we live, as a man came over to where I was sitting on the ground and said that he'd seen everything and wanted to know whether I needed help. Luckily, he was heading to the very company where Per works (and which used to employ me before all this MS shit kicked me in the head!), so I gave him Per's name.

The taxi driver left before Per could get there, possibly as he was afraid of getting his arse kicked. Yes, he left me sitting on the ground, which I considered to be a well sight safer than anywhere else at the moment.

In the end, Per walked me home, gave me pills to ward off the pain that I knew was coming, made sure I had plenty of whatever I needed, kissed me and rubbed his cheek to mine, and headed back to work.

It's been a long while since I fell outside, but now, I guess, it's a much shorter while. Here's hoping that the whiles get longer and longer between...

N.B. In the midst of all this MS stuff, I'm also having hot flashes. Thence, the fact that, despite the brrrr factor of the weather here in Denmark, my mittens were off.

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Is this question ablist? Well not necessarily but it reminds me of a friend of a friend who, soon after testing positive for HIV, resolved, 'To be positive about being positive.'

I'm HIV negative sfaik but I've had a positive diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. 10 years later I still have MS and it still stinks. I wouldn't wish it on the most evil person who ever lived. So no, I don't have a positive attitude about this particular thing. Nor do I want to. Of course I have sadness, anger, fear and frustration about my disability. Anybody who tells me to 'let go of' those emotions is talking tosh. Anybody who says that I should appreciate the 'perks' of MS is talking tosh too. No, I'm not glad to lie on the sofa watching telly when other people are at work. I say, 'Be careful what you wish for.'

I was a happy person before I had this disability and I'm still a happy person because the disability isn't relevant to what I see when I turn out the light. What I see then is myself and I'm all right.

The other night, I woke up startled, as I was dreaming that I had MS and had trouble walking and ... ugh!

Okay, this was certainly some kind of sick nightmare, but like a nightstallion, it just kept romping and stomping through my night, until I woke up.

This is not the usual sort of thing going through my head when I'm asleep. Usually, I can do anything I might want to do when awake (but can't), go anywhere I might want to go (when awake or asleep, although the sleep-related places are usually a lot more interesting than the real ones!)...

Anyone else?

Understanding that MS comes with fatigue, what about when you wake up after a full night's sleep (12 hours! sheesh...) and still feel fatigued, and that fatigue doesn't go away?

That is, the second time I'm addressing this topic, of resolving to do things differently in the new year.

I try to do a little better every day.

That's about it.

That's the most I can do.

Even if it's just a little, it's okay.

So long as I don't backslide into ... whatever backsliding with MS would do.

I am trying to do a little better every day.

Yesterday, I had an MRI. I don't remember being in this much pain after one before. Therefore (five and six), I'm wondering whether I don't remember things from earlier MRIs, or perhaps something ... else ... I don't know what, but ... gah.

Getting set up for the MRI, the nurse put one head-brace on me, which made me feel like a car in the Australian Outback with a protective 'roo bar, but then she put a different one on me, which made me feel like Hannibal Lechter fastened to a dolly, with a taste for liver and fava beans. (Okay, I like neither liver nor fava beans, so don't start worrying!!!)

Going home, I thought that the pain would soon disperse, but it just got worse. My neck and shoulders, specifically, and I had a really hard time sleeping last night, despite having taken pain-killers that ought to do the job.

Could be worse, I suppose. I could have to have a spinal tap on top of that.

Today, I went to my weekly psychobabblicious session. No, it's not that bad, but that just wanted to come off my fingers, so ...

I was going to write 'this morning' up above, but it wasn't morning at all!!! It just felt like it, to me. I was absolutely exhausted (thank you, MS) when I got home, just from walking from the street to the front door of the building. I came inside, greeted our cat, Little Miss Moxie, then flopped on the bed. That was when Moxie decided that, no way and no how was she going to let me out of her sight!!! So, she curled up on my hips, got comfy, and we both had a loooong snooooze...

Therefore, I think it's safe to say that I've been catted.

Having a cat nearby is a wonderful thing.

If you can access the BBC's Listen Again resource where you live, you might like to hear the interview with Chris Hignell here. I'm grateful to the LJ Friend who told me about this and I should point out that it will stay online only until Wednesday.

I've been reading a list of real-live quotes, as opposed to quotes from comedians or books or whatever, about MS, and I like this one best, and it isn't even an idiotic quote, but something that someone else with MS said back to someone who said something stupid:





I have to add one thing: I don't at all care for the term MSer. *shudder* I can't explain why I have that reaction, but am I alone in this?

hi,

i have MS and so does a friend of mine who is studying holistic nutrition. Her advice on food and nutrition has helped me gain some control of my symptoms I believe.

As part of her course she is looking for people to anonymously use as case studies. She will provide a personalized nutrition program and assessment to people willing to share health profile profile details.

If you are interested in nutrition as part of your MS management please leave a comment here and I'll figure out how to get you in contact with her.

There is no charge for this, as it is part of her school curriculum.