Once in a while, I’ll indulge myself. I’m not a great one for wallowing, and I only occasionally feel sorry for myself. However I do think it’s important to be allowed the odd piece of self indulgence so here goes.
For those of you who don’t know already and didn’t read my previous blog, I suffer from multiple sclerosis. I don’t say “suffer from” lightly even though I have few, if any, outward symptoms. My particular flavour of MS is what’s described as “benign” which means I’ll rarely suffer any issues directly relating to MS. It is however, the most bizarre of illnesses. It’s dangerous to try and shoehorn any mundane little aches and pains into “Oh well, it’s because I’ve got MS” – that way lies madness. I can’t begin to tell you how many times since my diagnosis almost 12 months ago I’ve been tempted to do that.
Fear.
We're all fearful at times, we feel afraid for our children, our partners, ourselves. I know I'm not the only one who's scared. But I can tell you I'm petrified of the time. I worry I won't have chance to fit everything in, to do all the things I want to do, see all the places I want to see. I'm afraid there isn't enough time left for me to love my child and my partner, there aren't enough days to show them how much I care.
I can feel the tick tock of an unremitting clock, and the relentless patter of grain upon grain of sand in an hourglass.
I won't die from MS, I'll die with it, but I don't know how many good years I'll have. There's no reason why I won't have as many as you, but MS has whispered gently in my ear, asking me how I feel today. Is it different to yesterday? Is that little niggle simply that?
Last week the tick tock was just a little bit louder, a little less easy to ignore. Now though it's quiet again, peaceful.
Until next time.
