Often I ignore the thing living under my bed, pretend it doesn't exist and pray that it goes away. My disease lingers like the ghost in this picture with eerie disregard for anything else in my world. It waits.
I have purposely not addressed my Multiple Sclerosis or my past brain tumor, lately because I am afraid that some over zealous social worker may google my name (yes, it is my REAL name folks) and find my blog. Not that I have anything to hide at all here, they have copies of my medical files, but I just worry. Heck, I have even e-mailed her with my blogspot name in my e-mail signature, which is why I changed it recently.
I am a perpetual worrier.
This morning though, when I saw this picture, I thought that this is exactly what having MS feels like. Like there is a monster under my bed. It lurks there and I, most of the time, I am blissfully asleep, unaware of it at all.
But it waits for me.
MS is a patient lover.
Last night, as I was getting ready for my Rebif injection like I do every Monday, Wednesday and Friday night, I went to the fridge and got out the Nyquil (cherry flavored, I prefer it cold.) Off came the little cup thingy, off came the lid and with the fridge still open I wandered into the den/office to look at my books on my book shelves.
I looked at A Separate Peace, The Old Man and The Sea, The Sound and The Fury...I wondered why I have two copies of A Farewell to Arms. I thought about starting East of Eden again...and then I wander into the kitchen and thought:
"Why did Charley leave the fridge open?"
See, that is the thing with MS, it lurks and I never know when it might creep out from under the bed.
I worry that I may be suffering cognitive problems because 38 isn't old enough to be that absent minded, I mean who forgets that they are in the middle of getting something out of the fridge and goes and pursues their book selection? I took my shot of Nyquil and then went and took my injection of Rebif, which hurt like the dickens. Sometimes it hurts so much I threaten to cold-cock my adorable husband.
Really. Me, the nice Christian woman.
But see it is just my over active imagination making too much of nothing. I have gotten easily distracted my whole life and it could be a part of being creative. Do other creative people find it hard to stay on task? When is it time to worry? Try going shopping with me, forget it. I am like...ooohhhhh looky, preeeetttyyyyy.......and I TOUCH every little thing.
One of my favorite movies is What About Bob...I really get that movie. Cracks me up pretending a heart attack so he doesn't get one.
How do I reconcile and make peace with the ghost living under my bed?
So this is my non-fiction response to this Wrtiting Word Club photo.
Oh, Christina, I love this. And I'm sending Donna the link to it.
ReplyDeleteI KNEW you would take this photo on!
ReplyDeleteI am touched by the entry. Your fear is so real, if not MS I think you would have something under that bed. A worrier always has a hiding place...I know I am one. And yes i would love to go shopping with you since no one here in their right nmind will go with me!! I wonder slowly from one item to another..explore colors, touch everything I can and most always put things back because I try to keep my complulsions under control.
Tomorrow's post will reveal one purchase I bought after 6 hours in one store....I keep it to remind myself!
I too have a ghost under my bed..love you!
TJ
This is such a passionate, honest piece of writing. I was so touched by the things that you said. Thank you for sharing your experiences, your fears, and your thoughts--as a fellow "worrier," I am better for reading your words.
ReplyDeleteI so admire your ability to put into word your thoughts and feeling. I love your honesty
ReplyDeleteWell said, well written.
Smiles...
Christina,
ReplyDeleteEven though our illnesses are somewhat different, I can relate entirely to what your saying. There is also a monster under my bed. I share some of the same fears, especially when it comes to cognitive issues. My absent mindedness knows no bounds, but our forgetfulness is probably due to anxiety. When shopping, you "stop and smell the roses" so to speak, so much is your appreciation of life itself. At least, that is my impression, because I do the same things when shopping now, instead of feeling my pain. How to make peace with the ghost under the bed is something I don't know how to do, but maybe we both will figure it out. God will give us an answer in His own time.
God's Peace,
Tom
Sweetie,
ReplyDeleteYou do not need to worry about your memory or cognitive issues until you open the refrigerator, walk away then return and look at the thing dumbfounded wondering what in the world that large box is. When this happens, then you can worry. Until then, every living person experiences moments like this.
About the monster...
When you have monster under your bed, feed it cookies and milk. Soon the monster won't seem so scary.
Wish I could take the shots for you...
Love and miss you,
Mom
Christina, as TJ said, I had no doubt this Pic would be your choice.
ReplyDeleteWhen I think of you & MS, I see a picture in my mind. There`s a lion tamer in a cage with this one lion. The female lion tamer is smiling, bowing to her audience, who are roaring their approval.
The lion sits, cowed, controlled. Its will has been conquered by the heroism of the lion tamer.
Hugs to my favorite poet.
V
Chris,
ReplyDeleteYou are not the only person who experiences forgetfulness!!! Trust me on that one. We are over achievers and take too much on. Our mind wonders to the next task so quickly it skips past the task we are on. 38 seems too young, but we did not judge our parents as harshly as we judge ourselves and we were so into ourselves when we were young those things did not stick out to us. I'm sure they happened to our parents at such a young age too. Who knows... but I also have feelings of old age at such a young age. Do you remember when 30 was so old.... Man we were naive...
as for those shot... they seem so real and painful, I'm sorry you have to deal with that but I'm sure it's making you a stronger person and there is a purpose for all that we endure... Not to clear on that now, but you will look back on this too my friend!!! Promise.
Miss you and your extreme truthfulness and you ability to tell great story. I'm so glad for our reunion. Truly.
Lori
ps: as for the ghosts... name them and then they become guests.
I don't think I've told you how much I admire the spirit and elegance with which you face down this beast. I'm teling you now.
ReplyDeleteoh, I wish that we all could take this thing away from you.
ReplyDeleteI can be absent minded.... yes, part of the creative streak, but the ptsd has upped the ante and I worry all the time about forgetting something important.
The shots sound awful... I think you are very brave.
I know that feeling well, Christina, and I'm only 29 - absent minded, confused and befuddled is a state of being.
ReplyDeleteSometimes, things happen.
Roomie o'mine, this writing lets me see that much more of you. And while your MS is nothing amusing, I do find myself smiling when I read of your quirkiness.
ReplyDeleteI, too, am a worrier, a toucher, and definitely an A.D.D. candidate. My sister even bought me a sweatshirt that has a humorous saying on it regarding how my mind bounces from thing to thing. I fret I have Alzheimer's or something similar when I walk into the bathroom to find the water in the sink still running...because I had forgotten to turn it off earlier. Or when I get lost driving to a place I drive to frequently...such as my own home!
Your shots sound brutal. I am sorry you have to have them and that they hurt you. But, I would be more sorry if you had nothing to receive to ease the symptoms of MS from progressing.
We all have ghosts under our beds. All of us.
::hugging you tightly::
I think all artists suffer from a certain amount of ADHD...
ReplyDeleteOne day I hope MS mainstream publications will collect and publish such insights from people with MS and the gift of expression. Your "Ghost Under The Bed" equals the best I had ever read before by another, "Unicorn In A Cage". As a spouse caregiver we can only duel the who, what, when, where, how, and why. We can never KNOW. Thank You.
ReplyDeletePatrick http://journals.aol.com/daddyleer/CaregivinglyYours/
Patrick...
ReplyDeleteI submitted a very polished version of this story to a literary magazine that publishes in the "mainstream" about disabilites. Not exactly this story but close...
Wish me luck.