Another one of those days....
Not everyday is like this but they are becoming more frequent... such is life.
Morning again, another morning that doesn't come creeping in gently on silent cat feet but rushing in with the dull ache of another medication hang over. I groggily rolled over, pried my eyes open and slowly pulled myself to a sitting position. I tried to gather my bearings, time - day - purpose of life, you know the drill. Oh yes, the wonderful world of medicated sleep and it's dreamless, thoughtless, almost lifeless means of being... what I have to do just to get a little peace and sleep. I forced myself awake a bit more and pulled back the covers. I attempted to swing my legs out of bed and to the floor, but wait - they aren't moving - wonderful! It's going to be one of those days again, just what I was looking forward to... With a sigh of resignation I close my eyes and focus my mind and my will, when I was satisfied that I was 'where I needed to be' mentally then I directed every ounce of willpower I had into making my legs move. I took each one and swing it over until my feet touched the floor. I then shifted my weight and pulled myself to a standing position, my legs trembled with the exertion but I was determined to go through with it. I slowly, cautiously, made my way to my bathroom and dressing room. Focusing on every step, ensuring that my feet moved and that my knees didn't buckle I finally made it the short distance and sank into the chair at my vanity. My hands trembled as I went through my normal morning routine, by the time I had shed my flannel pj's for my favorite pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater I was out of breath.
As I shuffled my way into the kitchen, again with full focus and concentration, I glanced around to see what my husband and son have left for me to clean up. I made my way to the tall kitchen stool that sits close to the counter. At this point I needed some fresh, hot, strong coffee and slide onto the stool to do just that - make coffee. As it brewed I reveled in the aroma, it always brings back pleasant memories of growing up in my aunts house in Germany. For me coffee is always a happy trip down memory lane to a time of innocence and love and family. After pouring a cup I sipped the hot brew with appreciation and then reached for my morning handful of medications. Yeah, today I'll need everyone one of those damned pills. The wonderful world of living with MS, another sigh of resignation as I wash down the pills with my coffee. I did what I needed to in the kitchen and then headed towards my home office.
Again, I shuffled my way down the hall, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. One hand holding my coffee cup and the other out stretched touching the wall for balance and support. I got to the wonderful chair that is so comfortable that sits in front of my desk. I gently, carefully placed the coffee cup down on the coaster that sits just to the left of my keyboard. Sinking gratefully into the chair I leaned back and closed my eyes, my body trembling from exertion and I felt exhausted already. Muscles and tendons twitch and jump chaotically from the mis-firing of the nerves signals. I sat for a bit, waiting for the meds to kick in and stop the excessive nerve function and muscle reactions. I logged onto my computer and checked my schedule for the day, nothing important and my consultations could be done over the phone - no problem. I called my business partner and discussed the day with her, she asked am I coming in today. "No," I answered, "it's another one of those days and I won't be driving." "Okay," she answered and wished me well and chided me to just rest for a change. I laughed and said that I would, "after I'm done with a few things."
I was engrossed in writing up notes to add to some case files when I hear the dog bark and the front door open. My youngest son called out to me, "Mom, where are you?" "I'm in the office," I replied. "Have you been working all morning again?" He asked with a look on his face that told me that he ass already growing impatient with me. and "Yes," I answer him, "it's what grownups do when they have a business to run." I said this to him with a grin. "It's after 1:00, don't you think it's time you take a break and get something to eat?" I hadn't realized that it was so late already, my stomach certainly wasn't giving me any clues. "Sure what would you like," I asked him. I know that he usually comes by to check on me. He isn't happy with his brother or his dad, he feels that they should be more caring of my condition and do more for me. It's an old argument and not one that I am willing to revisit with him. I am a very independent woman and don't like the idea of being babied or hovered over.
He wanted to take me out to lunch but I just wasn't up to it and told him so. His eyes took in the trembling of my hands and the rest of my body. He knew that I won't tell him that it was another one of those days for me. So he said "lets go into the kitchen and see what we can whip up." Without missing a beat I said "sure" and carefully got up from my chair. My son saw the determination on my face and the set of my jaw as I concentrated to make my feet move towards the door. With all of the grace and diplomacy that I have taught him, he casually took my hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm and we made our way slowly back towards the kitchen as I leaned on my son for support instead of the wall.
I got settled back on my stool and we went about making lunch for the two of us. I looked at my son and wondered, most people who first meet him are frightened by his muscular build and all of the rough looking tattoos on his arms and neck, something he picked up while in prison. I also know that those that get to know him soon realize that he is a very gentle and caring soul with a good heart. He has always been that way towards me when his brother couldn't cope with my illness. My husband, although a good and loving man, copes with it by ignoring it and what it does to me. So my son comes by and checks on me, or calls to make sure that I'm not too sick to get out of bed that day. He has always had that in him and I am thankful that I helped to instill that. I made sure that he was extremely well trained in various forms of martial arts and self defense - occupational hazard at the time - but I also wanted him to have enough heart and soul to temper his hard side and be merciful to others as well.
After lunch he got me settled in on the sofa with my favorite blue satin lap throw, my favorite music playing softly in the background and nice cup of tea on the table beside me. We talked about his new job and life in general, his goals and dreams and his current love interest. Afterwards he did a few things for me and then headed for work with a promise to call me later. The phone was also on the table and the timer set for the calls I needed to make later in the day. I drifted and day dreamed and just rested for a while, enjoying the quiet afternoon. The sounds of the birds through the open window and the deep breathing of my dog lying on the floor next to the sofa were soothing and comforting. When the timer went off I pulled the files I had on the table onto my lap and opened the top one and dialed the number listed inside. I only made phone consultations with established clients, all new clients were met and seen at the office until I grew comfortable enough with their progress that phone consultations were warranted.
As I was finishing up with my notes on the last call I heard my dog get up and trot to the door. I could hear car doors on the driveway and knew that my husband and other son were home. I closed my folders, set them aside and struggled to get up from the sofa. The guys came in with their usual noisy conversations and teasing. My dog, a very timid and skittish creature by nature, growled and slunk away from them. After all of the time he had been in my home the dog still only wants to be near me. The only other person he actually likes is my youngest son, who he absolutely adores and responds to as well as he does me. I find the whole thing comical and smile. My other son just looks at the dog and says, "oh shut up," and then asked what was for dinner. I make my way to the kitchen and with all of the 'hello's" and 'how was your day's" I didn't focus on what I was doing and fell headlong right onto the floor.
There was a slight pregnant pause in the commotion and my other son helped me to my feet. My husband turned and went into the bedroom, closing the door. Well, I knew I wouldn't be seeing him for the rest of the night. My son just turned to me and settled me onto my stool saying, "well old lady, be more careful - don't want you to break a hip or anything..." I just smiled and retorted, "careful smartass, I'm the one cooking your dinner tonight - you might just find it with a little extra greens mixed in..." We teased and bantered back and forth like that as I made dinner and even got the young man to give me a hand with things. Afterward the evening meal, yes my husband joined us for that, things settled down for the evening. The guys watched television and I did the washing up. Not to disturb them, and their ideas of entertainment, I headed back to my office to put away the files and notes and get things ready for tomorrow.
After tidying everything up I just sat at my computer and thought, I thought about what my life had been and what it was now and where it was heading. I tend to do that when I feel that I need a little perspective. Time passed and my husband stuck his head into the door of my office. "Coming to bed or are you going to stay in here," was all he asked before he headed back down the hallway. I smiled to myself and pondered that question. Finally, I pulled myself up and carefully made my way down the hall back towards the living room. I tidied up a bit in there before turning off the television and lights. I made sure that everything was put away in the kitchen and slowly headed towards my bedroom. My husband was reading in bed and barely glanced up at me as I headed into my dressing room.
I went through my nightly routine and got ready for bed. I made my way over to my side of the large king sized bed and painfully got under the covers. It had been a long hard day for me and my body was protesting with every move. As I settled in against the pillows I tried to make conversation with the man lying next to me. He was as far over on his side as he could possibly be without actually falling off. He was reading and going through things from work and periodically answering his Blackberry and texting back to his night staff. I started with, "I heard back from that clinic that I want to go to for treatment," I said casually. "Hmm," was all he said, never taking his eyes off of the material in front of him. "You remember, the one I told you about?" I said as I tried to engage him again. "Oh yeah, that's all the way in India or some place isn't it?" He asked. "Yes," I answered him, "it is but the clinic comes highly recommended for MS patients from all over Europe and the US." "Well, just make sure that you can afford to go." He said, "it's not like they take our health insurance over there." "I know," I answered, "have you decided if you're going with me?" "We'll see," was all I got from him. With that I said good night and turned over to go to sleep. Yes, it had been another one of those days...
