Living with M.S.

"Living with M.S. is sort of like training for a long race. The harder you try, and the longer you keep at it, the stronger you become.
Eventually, looking back, you may be amazed at the power you possessed, even when you had no idea it was within your reach." (Linda Ann Nickerson)

Tuesday

Not all nose-dives are MS' fault

Multiple sclerosis is profoundly inconvenient. The MS MonSter can cause all sorts of mishaps, including sudden tumbles and stumbles. I cannot count the number of times I have been jogging or strolling or even standing still, only to find myself suddenly flat-out on the ground, looking up at the sky.

Hey, it happens.

Only that’s not what happened to me today.

I laced on my sneakers, grabbed the leash, and stepped outside for a jog with my dog. (I’ve committed to a somewhat ambitious mileage total, at least by my standards, for the year. So I need to get out there as much as possible, especially on days when the Upper Midwest’s version of Old Man Winter isn’t too wicked.) With the best intentions, we loped down the road towards a nearby industrial park to knock off a few miles.

Around mile two, a big truck rumbled by, kicking up some gravel along the way. As best as I can tell, my dog spooked at this commotion and bolted straight at me, knocking me off my feet. Tangled in the leash, we both toppled to the ground – right there in the street. She squealed, and I groaned.

We collected ourselves and limped pitifully homeward.

Dog photo - public domain. Other photos by this user. All rights reserved.
 
I guess I can’t really blame this on MS. Not this time.

Sure, I woke up with an MS headache this morning, but that’s sort of a given. I’m also battling a bout of heightened MS vertigo, and I’ve been dropping all sorts of things (like keys, pens, silverware, and other stuff) randomly for a few days. Those tend to be tip-offs that the MS MonSter is lurking in the background.

Still, although inconvenient MS may often make a convenient excuse for painful mishaps like falls (and often rightly so), the blame for this particular plunge lies elsewhere. Right now, she’s pouting by my feet, while I ponder how to mend both knees on a brand-new and pretty pricey pair of nifty Nike winter stretch running tights.

And I’m thinking: Once I catch my breath, I’m gonna have to stop at the store and pick up another bottle of ibuprofen. I’ll be needing that soon. 

On the plus side, I did not land on last-year’s fractured wrist. Can we just call that a silver lining?
 



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