Sunday, October 26, 2008

This One Is Gonna Be An Angry One...Just Thought I Would Warn You

I'm a bit aggrivated...not the right word...miffed? No...mad...getting closer...
Ok, I am way kind of definately, whole heartedly PISSED OFF!
And what am I pissed off at? This mother frippin disease that shows it's ugly head when I least expect it, making my body defy me, let me down, disappoint me in ways ones body should never do.
Let me try to make some sort of sense out of my ramblings for you.
Think of what you do, say, on an average morning from the moment you wake up to the second you walk out the door to work, take your kids to school, go to Dunkin Donuts and then come home and eat two dozen jelly filled donuts, whatever it is you do.
Now, imagine it with these little gems added in:

1. You husband, wife, gay lover (there is NOTHING wrong with that), dogs, children, etc. has to come and tell you to get out of bed about fifty times after the alarm has gone off for twenty five minutes waking everyone up in the house but you because of all the meds you have to take for you illness.

2. You finally get up, still in a fog from the meds, and have to get everyone dressed, pack lunches, fix hair, feed the monkeys, and get them out the door and into the super mini van before 7:15 a.m. to get them to school on time.

Add in the fact that your right leg really doesn't work so you're dragging it behind you like the Hunchback of Notre Dame and you have to bring your cane with you everywhere you go.
It's all enough to make even the most sane of people go crazy. And as I'm sure you all have figured out by now, I am not one of the most sane of people.
One of my main problems is that I'm stubborn. Really stubborn. To the point of being stupid.
For so long, I have fought this illness and the limitations it's put on me.
I have what my therapist calls a case of the "I shoulds".
I should be able to carry a laundry basket up the twelve steep farmhouse steps and put it away.
I should be able to go back up the stairs to get my own clothes.
I should be able to clean the house, make dinner, make it through the day without a damn nap, go to the grocery store, volunteer at the school, go on the school field trips with my kids.
I should, I should, I should.
In turn, I end up exhausting myself and just plain screwing myself.
Friday had been a crazy day. I took the kids to school, came home and put away loads of laundry that had been sitting there taunting me, bathed the littlest monkey, showered myself, and then had to get back in the car and drive and hour to two doctors appointments for myself. Then it was off to the pharmacy and I made it back in town just in time to surprise the girls by picking them up from school instead of them having to take the bus home.
Busy day. No nap. My butt was kicked.
But did I stop? Oh no. I was being the supermom.
There was dinner to be made, homework to be done, baths to give.
The hubs kept telling me "Don't over do it. Sit down if you need to, I can take over whenever you need me to."
In my head I thought "Oh, you're very sweet, but I've got this. I should be able to do this."
By the time all of the things were done, I was exhausted. I had overdone it. I refused help when I should have said "Oh God, yes please!"
But by this time, my stubborn self kicked in and said "Just one more trip up the stairs for your pj's and then you can relax. On more trip up those stairs. It's only 12 stairs."
I made it up the stairs but by the time I got there my muscles in my legs were weak and shaking. But I didn't stop, oh no, I kept going. And that's when it happened.
My body said "Ok lady, enough!" And I fell.
It wasn't a big fall. I was coming out of the bathroom and fell on a part of the floor that is waiting for carpet. I fell to my knees and skinned them pretty good, hit my arm and my head on the wall, added a few new bruises to the collection that I have going, and really beat up my pride.
The hubs came running up the stairs, he knew what had happened. And he found me there, in the floor like I had landed, crying like a little baby. I wasn't crying because I was hurt physically, I was crying because of the "I shoulds".
In a way, when the hubs got there, it was kind of funny. He kept going between asking me if I was ok and yelling at me for pushing myself and not asking for the help that I so needed.
It was:

Are you ok? God that was a loud one!


But are you ok? Is anything broken? Are you bleeding anywhere?


But seriously, are you ok? God you scared the shit out of me! Are you ok?

He ended up going to get my pj's and I ended up sliding on my butt back down the twelve stairs that I had just climbed up.
Remember when you were a little kid and you'd slide down the stairs on your butt? I used to do it at my grandparents house all the time. Thump thump thump. Then I'd run back up and do it again. It was so much fun.
Now, as an adult, not so much. Now, I feel every thump through my entire body, it gives me an atomic wedgie, and I wasn't doing if for fun, I was doing it because I couldn't walk myself back down.
This is what MS has done to me and my body. My body and I are no longer on the same team.
Thank you MS.

Maybe I should get one of these put in the house. I wonder if my insurance would pay for that?


steenky bee said...

Maybe, just maybe, you should slap your therapist. I bet it would do wonders. :)

Chrystal said...

Tracy I know you and you want to be the best at anything, including Super Mom. Honey Take a deep breath and step back. You can do all of you shoulds, but a little at a time. Quit over doing it. baby steps. Your starting to scare the shit out of me. I want to start singing, Did I ever tell you your my hero, your everything I hoped I could be, I can fly higher than an eagle, but you are the wind beneath my wings. Look at me you put me into song now. Annie and I will come up there and put some sense into ya. Like opening a can of whoop ASS. Don't ask for it. If you need us let us know. :)