Yvonne deSousa's Blog, page 4

The Top 10 Things!!

What you REALLY need to know this MS Awareness Month!

As we wrap up Multiple Sclerosis Awareness Month, I thought I would offer a second post this special month.  This, my gift to you and the people in your life, is a list of the Top 10 Things to NEVER Say to Someone with MS as well as snappy comebacks to use if someone says one of these things to you!!

For the most part, we are all pretty nice people who want to be kind to each other.  But when you have just been told that you have a chronic, debilitating, life altering disease, you are likely not feeling so great. So when someone wants to talk about your diagnosis, you likely appreciate their sympathetic comments.

And they mean well, they really do.

I have been on both sides of this conversation.   I was the sympathetic person wanting make brilliant comments of hope, comfort and advice to my newly diagnosed sister, Laurie.   And then, eight years later and newly diagnosed myself, was on the receiving end of the well-intentioned comments  and advice.

So I know now how sometimes those comments can often make the MS’er want to scream.

(See prior posting about how the movie Scream relates to multiple sclerosis.)

And, if you have been recently diagnosed, you have the right to scream.  But to keep you from screaming at people who really do want to help, I have come up with advice to the well-meaning.   Here’s Yvonne M. deSousa’s top ten list of things you should NEVER say to someone with MS.

 

And if well wishers are reading and disregarding my list they should be prepared that the MS’er they are talking to might just start screaming.  If they don’t scream, but they have lost all semblance of worrying about the feelings of others, here is also my top ten list of what they might just blurt out in reply.

Are you sure it’s not just all in your head?

Of course it is all in my head!  And a bit in my c-spine too.   Sit down.  Let me show my MRI.

 

That’s not MS-that’s old age.

So for some strange reason I have just aged thirty years in five seconds.   I feel so much better now.

 

You should look into that.

Thing is, I am a little overwhelmed right now and that is about the tenth suggestion I have received just in the last hour on things to look into that might or might not be helpful.  How about you look into it and get back to me, okay?

 

 

Oh, that’s nothing- I get that all the time.

Really?   Nothing?   Damn, I have been shooting myself up with drugs made from Chinese hamster ovary cells for the fun of it.  (Think I am making that up?  Get a magnifying glass and look through it at a box of Rebif injections.)

 

You’re tired? I’m really tired.

Tired huh?  Last night I started sobbing at the idea of brushing my teeth as my arm was too exhausted to lift the tube of toothpaste.  Are you THAT tired?

 

You could die from this you know?

Dammit it!   I thought this meant I was going to live forever.  Geez!

 

But you don’t look sick to me.

That’s great news.  Could you call my doctor and let him know?  Maybe he got it all wrong?

 

You can’t just blame MS for everything.

Watch me!

 

Isn’t that what Michael J. Fox has?

No, this is the disease that Montel Williams has.  You know, the disease where he wrote that book and said it was ok to smoke pot.  Got any on you?

 

How do you get one of those handicapped parking thingy’s anyway?

You’ve got to go see my buddy Vinnie down at the RMV.  He hands them out for $50 and a subscription to the beer of the month club.  Here, let me give you his number.

 

Please don’t think us MS’ers are ungrateful.  We really do appreciate the support and talking about the illness is better than not talking about it.   If, after reading the above, you are at a loss as to what to say to someone with MS then please note the following;

This is one occasion where it is perfectly politically correct to use profanity.   Here is a no-fail example of something that is perfectly appropriate to say to someone with multiple sclerosis.

“I am so sorry to hear that.  That #@%$@&$ sucks!”

 

Do you think you need some more MS Awareness in your life? Appreciate your awareness with a little humor tossed in? Check out my MS memoir on Amazon!  MS Madness! A ‘Giggle More, Cry Less” Story of Multiple Sclerosis

 

 

 

Some MS Awarenss with a 2nd Look at Some MS Moments!

What happens when multiple sclerosis meets cognitive issues- some MS moments in time

It is March and March is Multiple Sclerosis Awareness Month!!

March is also Disabilty Awareness Month, National Reading Month and Women’s History Month.  Since MS is a DISABILITY, and, if interested, you have to READ my blog, I thought this new look at an old post would cover several bases at once.

Also, I’m a WOMAN and this is some moments in my HISTORY so I think it’s a perfect offering for March!!!

Plus, if you stay to the end, there are some extras just for you!

MS Moments Not So Magical

What a multiple sclerosis moment REALLY looks like

I think the MS community might have stolen the term “MS Moment” from another community, namely, the elderly.  It seems to me that before MS ever really entered my consciousness in any serious way, I heard a lot about “senior moments.”

Actually, just before I was diagnosed myself, I was having a ton of “senior moments” which was scary as I was only in my thirties.

And I wasn’t drinking anywhere near as much as I did in my twenties.

Turns out my senior moments were actually bouts of cognitive deficiencies that as I talked to other people with MS, became MS moments.  As I go about my life looking to be cheered up by a giggle or two, I can find some of these moments amusing.

There was the time that I tried to reheat my large mug of tea in the microwave only to have the mug not fit.  I struggled and struggled and grew confused as this was something I did all the time.  There was no reason for the mug not to fit.

Minutes of drinking lukewarm tea later, I realized that the problem was that the “microwave” I was trying to put the mug into was actually the toaster oven.  How does this happen?  They aren’t even near each other on the counter.

Or there was time I got all dolled up and was so pleased that my hair was cooperating that I sprayed it with hairspray to keep it that way.  But as I suddenly started to gag, my hair moved and I realized the problem was that my “hairspray” was actually body mist.

And no, it doesn’t hold your hair in place and what they say is true- too much of a good thing is actually quite smelly.

And sure, I’ve forgotten to take the cap off my water bottle before refilling it and I’ve put pepper on my yogurt when I really wanted cinnamon. But these are things that in retrospect, I do find amusing.

But then there are the MS moments that can be expensive.  Too often I buy something I don’t need while forgetting the thing I do need, or buy something and then forget I have it, even as I am looking at it and then have to throw it away when it gets way past its expiration date.

I’m pretty frugal and so I make a habit out of looking for coupons, cutting coupons, bringing coupons to the grocery store and even taking the coupons out of my purse.  Only to forget to give the coupons to the cashier, realizing this as I put said groceries away back at home and wonder what that clump of paper is in my pocket.

Being on a budget makes these MS moments costly but since I’m not dealing with super pricey items, I can often laugh them off too.

It gets harder to giggle though when the moments become frustrating.  I like ice hockey and recently read a great article about a Boston Bruins icon, the player who has his own statue outside of the Boston Garden featuring him flying through the air in celebration of a championship goal.  Only a couple of days after reading the article I had forgotten this famous player’s name.

Everyone knows this guy’s name.  You can’t say you are from New England if you don’t know this name and I had just read his name over and over.  I had to admit my cluelessness and ask a friend who gently reminded me that the name I was looking for was Bobby Orr.

But I’m sure I didn’t have to tell you hockey fans that.

This multiple sclerosis moment was frustrating in a recreational way.

But it can get more serious when I do things such as search over and over on important paperwork for a crucial deadline only to not see the deadline and turn the paperwork in late.

Or, when I check and recheck the paperwork only to submit it and find out I did half of it wrong even though I checked it, rested, checked it again and checked before turning it in.

Then there was the time I forgot how to spell my own name.

It probably doesn’t help that my last name is a little unusual with the first two letters of it being lower case and then a capital letter three letters in.   What makes it even more baffling is that my cousins don’t spell it this way.  They capitalize the first letter and then the third.

(Thanks dad and Ellis Island for making even our last name confusing.)

Two years after it had been up I was looking at my website and realized that my name was spelled wrong.  How could my web guru have made such a mistake?

I fumed.  I furied.  I frustrated and decided I needed to rest.   I came back to the website and grew even more angry when I saw the misspelling once again.  Yvonne deSousa.

It was later in the day, just as I was about to send off an email requesting an immediate correction when I realized that my guru had spelled my name on my website exactly as I spell it.  He hadn’t messed it up at all, I had just forgotten how to spell my own name!

(Slight plug for my web guy as he really is awesome and I’m embarrassed about the above issue still.  If you are looking for web help, you will find his info at the bottom of the links tab of this website under Kemp Resources.)

Many people will say “we’re all spacey” or “I do that all the time..”

But with MS moments the problem is that we aren’t able to check our mistakes because even when we check and re-check them we often don’t see the mistake.  It’s like our brain doesn’t accept the mistake as a mistake once we make it.

I don’t know if this also happens with senior moments as what I always thought were senior moments were actually MS moments and so now I don’t know what to think.

Then there are MS moments that are just not funny at all.

Recently I was taking a shower and being the good conservationist I at least attempt to be, I shut the water off while I shampooed and soaped up.  When it was time to rinse them off, I could not, for the life of me, remember how to turn the water back on.

This wasn’t a quick lapse of memory.  It took me a while to figure out what to do and how to get the water back.

Who can measure shower time? This didn’t last hours or even minutes but it sure felt like it.  It did last long enough for me to begin to panic, all while shampoo drizzled into my eyes. Thankfully, after I while and in desperation, I remembered how to use my faucet and resumed my shower.

This incident was extremely scary.

And it reminded me of the scary times I forget to swallow.  (Read more about this in my blog It’s Not Called Bari-yum)

How does one forget to swallow? Even newborn babies can remember how to swallow. But with multiple sclerosis sometimes I forget and freak out a bit hoping my MS body figures it out.

It does but I’m terrified of the day it might not.

When people ask why MS fatigue is so bad I tell them it is because it makes these issues worse and these issues can be frightening when you think about them in the long haul.  And cognitive deficiencies are only one of far too many MS symptoms.

And that is the crux of multiple sclerosis.

 

As we close MS Awareness Month it is important to remind others what some of the scary moments of multiple sclerosis looks like.  Because at its core it is a terrifying illness that needs research, awareness and a cure.

Like right away.

Like now!

True, I spend my days open to the amusing moments because that is how I survive, no thrive, in the face of the horrible symptoms and unknown future.  I believe life is too short and when you can find a smile, treasure it.

But it’s never lost on me that those smiles don’t take away from the debilitating nature of MS.

Sometimes though, they just might help you power through….

And because this is a special month, I have two extras for you my friends!

First, along with three other amazing MS blogger friends, I was interviewed for an article on HealthCentral about making your MS voice heard!  Proud to be in such amazing comapny!! 

You can read it here- HealthCentral

Thank you to the author Marygrace Taylor.

And second, while I do not advertise on my website unless I tell you, my readers, that I’m advertising and I don’t promote anything that isn’t free (except my book of course- MS Madness! A “Giggle More, Cry Less” Story of Multiple Sclerosis which is still kicking a…, oops, I mean butt on Amazon,) I have met and become friends with another MS author and life coach, Dee DiFatta. I like what she’s doing and think you may find her helpful as well!  You can check out her book, Your Daily Dose of PositiviDee, find her on Facebook-MS Healing and PositiviDee, or check out the special she is offering below!

 

SPECIAL MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS HEALING OFFERS

IN HONOR OF MS AWARENESS MONTH

90-Minute Private Coaching Session – Mindset Shift from Hurting to Healing 

This is for you if:

You are living with MS and are looking for new healing tools and techniques.You are tired of fighting and want to make peace with yourself and this disease.You are ready to get curious and explore new perspectives and possibilities.You are able to invest 90 minutes and $99.00 in this healing opportunity.

6-Week Group Coaching – “How to Overcome the BS of MS” 

This is for you if:

You want to learn easy ways to elevate your thinking so your

thoughts can create more positive results in your life.

You are ready to explore and call “BS” on toxic fears and beliefs

that are no longer serving you.

You are willing to share and reframe your MS story with other

caring, compassionate people on similar journeys.

You are able to invest 90-120 minutes per week and

$249.00 to jumpstart your healing journey.

(This course will start in April)

Go to www.adoseofpositividee.com to Sign Up NOW

These programs are being offered by Dee DiFatta, an Empowerment Coach who has been living with MS for almost 30 years. Her mission is to teach empowering mindset shifts so you can start healing and live a happier, healthier life.

 

Simply Put, Two Friends Go Out For Coffee

Attack of an MS bladder

Annmarie and I were due to catch up, and a simple phone call wasn’t going to cut it. Last Friday we decided to meet for coffee and she picked a local hot spot that was a combination of a high-end chocolate store and café.

When I arrived, she was in the chocolate part selecting treats for her Valentine. I had sworn I wasn’t buying my Valentine anything edible for the holiday.

For one thing, he is kind of a healthy guy and there is a limit to how much I want to corrupt him.

For another, I take a stand on buying candy before Valentine’s Day as I always insist on celebrating 2/15, when chocolate hearts are half off in all the major drugstores.

But not to be outdone, I followed Annmarie to the register and threw some red foil wrapped hearts on the counter. Then we headed to the café part and grabbed our coffee.

Thing is, I don’t like coffee.

Its lovely aroma is ruined by its bitter taste.

What I HAVE come to appreciate is what I like to call frou frou coffee. Specialty blends filled with sweetness, flavorings and whip cream. You know, the stuff that sounds commonplace and not too bad when the word “coffee” is used, but is not part of anything healthy that I’m aware of, unfortunately.

We ordered, a cocoanut mocha latte for me which, translated, means tropical flavored, chocolate, caffeinated sugar.

It was a gorgeous day, very springlike which was weird because it was winter and I’m not a huge fan of real spring- bugs, allergies and outside noises galore. But it was nice and so we drove to the nearest beach where we drank our drinks and chatted for over an hour.

We even had some fun entertainment watching a black lab playing fetch and a golden retriever who ventured into the water just enough to cover his paws with the tide, and then refused to move for the whole hour we were there.

After a bit I said, “Annmarie, this is all lovely but I’ll need a bathroom soon.”

There was a public restroom only 20 yards from us but though the beach was packed, it was locked since, after all, it was still winter.  Annmarie agreed it was time to go and started the car.

But in absence of a motor sound, there was silence.  She tried again, nothing.  The car was dead and it was shocking.

Shocking because while I’ve had that experience several times, we were in Annmarie’s car. Her car not starting is not likely in Annmarie’s world. Her Valentine is her husband Sam and he is a boy scout to her girl scout when it comes to preparedness.

Mini emergencies don’t dare crop up as they know they don’t stand a chance with these two being caught off guard.

They service their vehicles at regular intervals, before the recommended mileage requirements.

They have what the need when they need it plus extras, just in case.

They have a generator, battery packs AND extra batteries in a wide variety of voltages for when the power goes out.

If you need something unusual, perhaps a tool that you’ll use only once and then never, ever again, Annmarie and Tom have it in their basement and can put their hands on it before you even finish telling them you need to borrow it.

Once, I went to their house and was surprised to see Annmarie opening a package of fruit filling.  I commented that I was surprised she didn’t just make her own.  Turns out, she did.  She had made her own fruit filling and had used a fancy machine to vacuum seal and store her own recipe!

I didn’t even know that there was such a machine.

Another time, Annmarie and I were going on a picnic and she put our food in an actual picnic basket.

At least, I think that’s what she put our food in, I had never seen one before. If I go on a picnic I usually use a paper bag to put my lunch in, held from the bottom in case the ice packs make the bag too soggy and sandwiches start to fall out.

So Annmarie’s car was supposed to start. Especially when I had to go, if you know what I mean.

She correctly assumed the problem must be the battery and, of course, not only had jumper cables but knew where they were and basically, how to use them.

There was a woman next to us who rolled down her window and asked if she could help. She offered the battery from her car but it must have been borrowed as she didn’t know how to release the hood. So, while Annmarie hooked up the cables to her battery, I went over and helped the kind lady find the hood release button.

The windows in the back seat must have been tinted because neither Annmarie nor I had noticed a cute kid with her. But there, strapped into a car seat, was a young boy, maybe 3.  Very cute, very curious, and very precocious with a ton of questions.

“Is your car broken?”

“How come its broken?”

“Is it the battery?”

“Do you know how to fix it?”

No adorable youngster, I have no idea how to fix it and hopefully Annmarie does because by now I have to go pretty bad.

Annmarie couldn’t figure out how to attach the cables to my young friend’s vehicle. My part thus far to help was getting the hood of the second car open, answering the little boy’s important questions and holding my bladder as much as I could.

By now a group had gathered and it was determined that the woman’s vehicle was a hybrid and as such, no help. I explained the situation to the boy’s adult lady, (a nanny maybe who didn’t know what kind of car her employers drove or a mom in a new vehicle?)

She understood and offered to move her car, which started, thankfully. One of the many looking at Annmarie’s engine moved their car into her spot and another attached the cables.

While they did their thing I was desperate to find a way to distract myself and did what all the gathered had planned to do but were now very busy jumpstarting Annmarie’s car, I took a picture of the beautiful sunset that had started during the battery ordeal.

Soon Annmarie’s car engine revved up and I jumped in, begging Annmarie to drive away as quickly as possible as I shouted my thank you’s to those who had helped.

“Gotta go,

can’t stay,

but thank you for helping us

get on our way!”

Annmarie dropped me off at my car. It would have made sense to run into the café where my car was, and where we had started our visit, to use their bathroom but when an MS bladder is calling an MS brain may not be working.

I started for home as speedily as I could only to realize I wouldn’t make it. I aimed for the grocery store but it became clear that while I might make it to the parking lot, no way I would make it to the very back of the store where the restroom was located, across from the cleaning supply aisle to be specific, because of course, that’s where it would be, way, way in the back.

I pulled into the parking lot of the nearest public place I could, a bowling alley which was ironic because I was taking my nephews bowling the very next day, ran in faster than road runner, got into a stall and just about made it.

Relief, finally.

Relief, but no toilet paper.

Annmarie isn’t the only one who is always prepared.

I managed to reach my purse hanging on the back of the door where there was a pack of tissues.  No jumper cables, but tissues worked for this type of emergency.  Phew!

When I got back in my car, I realized that in the car/bladder ordeal I had somehow managed to pilfer Annmarie’s stylish sunglasses. She had driven off in a different direction. I texted her to explain.

“I’m so sorry! Should I turn around to get them to you???”””

“No problem,” she replied.  “I have others in the car in case of emergencies.”

Of course she did…..

Happy Pink and Red, Sappy, Happy Hearts Day my friends! 

If you need to reach me, you can find me at the local CVS on 2/15.

Or in a public bathroom.

When MS Gives You a Finger, a Second Glance

A multiple sclerosis dummy

 

For those new to my website, and because MS hasn’t been very amusing lately, and since, let’s face it, I’m feeling a little sleepy and lazy this month, I thought I would offer a second glance at this prior post.

I hope it brings you some January giggles!

I know some of you may have read that title and thought I made a grammar mistake.  I’m certainly likely to make a mistake like that as this post will elaborate.

But no, in this case, I did mean “A” finger as opposed to “THE” finger.

But the two may be just a little bit related…

Despite the fact that I find the whole For Dummies series (you know, auto repair for dummies, internet for dummies,) too complicated, I don’t think of myself as a dumb person.

I was valectdictorian of my high school graduating class for crying out loud!

(Did I spell that right? I bet you checked and I bet I didn’t.)

I even graduated from college.   So how can I possibly be dumb?  Receiving a diploma takes years of intense study and concentration, hard work and sleepless nights.  It takes major commitment and dedication. They don’t just give that cap and gown to anyone!

So it’s got to be this stupid illness called multiple sclerosis that makes me do stupid things sometimes.  It has to be. I refuse to accept anything else.

I wrote about this before in one of my first blog posts (Stupid MS,) but the MS stupidity just keeps on a comin and thus, I thought I would share some of it with you.

(Why do this?  It seems like the smart thing to do would be too hide the dumb things that MS makes me do but of course, sometimes MS makes me not so smart.)

For example, one cold winter afternoon I tried to warm up my tea but the cup wouldn’t fit in the microwave oven.  I kept shoving and pushing but the tea just wouldn’t fit.   It took my normally intelligent but MS dumb brain 10 minutes to realize that the problem was that I was trying to shove my tea into the toaster oven as opposed to the microwave.

There was the time I invited people over for dinner and then forgot to make dinner.  I had bought all the ingredients.  And had even pulled them out of the pantry.  But there was no dinner.

(In truth, it was less that I forgot to make dinner than that I forgot how long it would take. My company showed up on time and hungry but I hadn’t even started cooking.  Luckily the company was only my mom and my sister.  My mom took us out instead.)

It wasn’t that long ago that after showering, makeup applying, and blow drying that I then sprayed my hair with Lysol disinfectant instead of hairspray.  Not only are those two cans not even next to each other, they’re not even in the same cabinet!

My hairstyle might not have held but at least it was germ free.

Recently I was waiting for an important conference call and was agitated when it didn’t come in.

I huffed.

I puffed.

I sent an email demanding to know where my call was.  It was as I hit send that I saw that my caller indicated she would call me at 3, California time.

I contemplated that a bit.  I wasn’t in California. I was in Massachusetts.

Perhaps that was the problem?

The return email explained that it was.  Almost three hours had passed while I was trying to figure what time I would actually receive the call when the call came in.

Then there was this little bit of devout, eager beaver, multiple sclerosis brilliance.  Despite my general clumsiness, my MS super clumsiness, my fatigue, and an MS lack of dexterity in my hands, I volunteered to be a Eucharistic minister in my church.  For my nonbelieving friends, this involves holding, carrying and distributing the most holy consecrated bread and wine.

I volunteered because that sounds like a GREAT job for me.

How’s that going to turn out?  Only God knows.

And I mean that literally.

But the latest dumb thing I did may not seem so dumb.   I was in the middle of major spring cleaning that always wipes me out (for more on that particular MS hell check out my prior blog post, Mr. Clean is the Man  for Me,) when I noticed that my kitchen sink was leaking.  I put a call into my landlord who said he would be right by.

When cleaning, I need hardcore music to get me through.  So I was listening to Guns ‘n Roses Use Your Illusion II as I dusted every speck of dust I could possibly find.

Do you know that album?

Do you know the part of the song “My World,” where Axel Rose is trying to talk a girl into sleeping with him?  He says “Let’s Do It,” three times and then the girl starts making intense sex sounds?

Ya, that’s the part of the CD that was playing when my landlord walked into my apartment.

Thank you MS for that humiliating music choice at a time when I was expecting company.

I would like to say that MS left me some brain cells that directed me to turn the music off but that’s not the case.  The music ended by itself.  “My World” is the last song on the CD.

My landlord and I then spent an awkward afternoon while he fixed the sink and I tried to keep cleaning.

Two hours later he declared the sink fixed and left.

I went to get a glass of water and jumped in horror.

In my dishpan, mixed in with some dirty forks and spoons, was a finger!

It creeped me out!

It had to come from my landlord as he was working in the area. But wouldn’t I have heard it if he had cut off his finger?

There wasn’t any blood.

Did my landlord have a fake finger, a dummy finger so to speak?  Was the finger a cosmic payback for the dumb music choice?

I did gather my wits enough to grab a paper towel and throw the thing away.  And when I felt it I realized perhaps it only looked like a finger.  Maybe it was something else.  Maybe it was plumber’s putty shaped in a way that made it look like a finger?

I’m still not sure.  Normally, my rational brain would say yes, that must be what this weird thing is.   But my idiotic MS brain still insists that MS just gave me a finger.

“A” finger, not the, you know, “THE” finger.

 

What’s your hilarious chronic illness story?  Share it with us on the Giggles tab of this very website!

Dancing and Holiday Queens

Multiple Sclerosis Goes Out

It was almost 8 PM and I was retouching my makeup.

Wait.

What?

Did you read what I just wrote?

8 at night and I was retouching my makeup?

It was a wild night if I was still wearing makeup past 7:30.

Most days, makeup comes off and comfy clothes or pajamas come on before 7, if I was even wearing makeup or street clothes earlier in the day.

But here I was, applying lip gloss and waiting for my friend from forever, Amy, as we were going out dancing.

You see, she had just discovered a great, local cover band and we were hooked.  They were called Riptide and were a ton of fun!!

The last time we had seen them we had done dinner first and so we weren’t leaving our houses at the ungodly hour of 8:30 for a night out.  It seemed less dramatic if we met up with 2 other dear friends, had a nice restaurant meal and just happened to be sitting around when the band started.

But tonight, Amy, who had lost all sense of reality and calendar, (hello, we used to leave after 8 for a night’s out in the 90’s not in 2022!), had a work party and then was meeting me.

The thing is, I wanted to go.  Things had been stressful and busy and I did really enjoy the music. Plus, for a big project earlier in the day I needed to take my legal speed RX and the effect now that the project was over was that I wanted to move.  Still, it was December and cold and dark out.  But I was insisting, I was going to go dancing.   I gave one last, longing look to my super comfy pjs and followed Amy out the door.

I used to be an award-winning dancer.  I can say this because I won the best dancer contest at Scott Rego’s second grade birthday party. I even took home a wicked cool prize.

I think it was a slinky.

Since multiple sclerosis took over and standing gets achy very quickly, I’ve become an amazing chair dancer. Why oh why don’t they have competitions for that?  If they did, I’d be the first to sign up!

We arrived at the bar and despite the promise of my bladder wreaking havoc on my body after bedtime, and the  general ickiness of a bar bathroom, I ordered a seltzer.  Did you know that hard seltzer is different from regular seltzer?  Trust me, that is information you need to know if you plan on going pub crawling or regular dancing or, even, chair dancing.

Luckily I did know and ordered one hard seltzer.   To start that is…

You can dance

You can jive

Having the time of your life…..

My sneakers

I can dance.  And maybe I can jive.

Despite the fact that going out on the town made me vain and I refused to wear my usual foot attire, (podiatrist recommended, expensive, specialty sneakers,) and opted for some low healed, casual boots and thus, my feet hurt, I was having a great time.

My winter dancing shoes

Ooh see that girl

Watch that scene

Digging the dance queen

I imagine I was quite a scene.  I was sliding all over the place in my dancing shoes, was most likely out of rhythm, and trying hard to keep my left knee from going out.  But I was out dancing; real, full on, missing my 21-year-old self and the girl who won THE dancing prize at a birthday party, dancing.  I didn’t care if I was making a scene.

 

Not me

 

Young and sweet

Only seventeen

 Ok that part wasn’t exactly true.  I wouldn’t call myself young, I was closer to 57 than 17-by a few years mind you- and hadn’t felt sweet since I worked at a candy store when I WAS young and sweet and practically seventeen.  I might not have been quite the dancing queen but I tend to think royalty can be overrated.

Feel the beat of the tambourine, oh yeah

You can dance

You can jive

Having the time of your life

 

This part was completely true!  Even the tambourine part.  Mel, the lovely lead singer of Riptide, handed Amy a tambourine and we continued dancing away.  Right up to last call!

Ok, last call at this establishment was 11 rather than the last call that Amy and I enjoyed in our twenties. But still… We were having the time of our lives.

We wandered back to my place and since Amy was too tired to drive home, she crashed on my sofa.

Just like thirty years ago!!!

True, there was no before bed shots or major munchies or gossiping about the evening to all hours, like in the days of old.  I think we were both asleep by 11:30 and were totally spent.

The next morning I woke up not with a hangover, but with a vicious sore right hip!

What is that about?

And if it was from dancing, how come both hips didn’t hurt?

Was I swinging my hips?

Can you only swing one hip?

Not me or my hips

I just took a break from writing to try to just swing one hip and I really don’t think you can. It’s sort of just a weird jerk of your body that I can’t picture doing on the dance floor, even if I’m no longer a second-grade dancing professional.

Was the ache from my multiple sclerosis or from me trying to pretend to be the dancing queen I thought I was when I was 8, and then again when I would go out after 8 PM when I was 21.  Luckily, it was one of those aches that you feel but feel after something good for you- like going to the gym or having fun.  Since I DO NOT go to the gym, I’d take it that it was from having fun.

Three weeks later, I discovered a tender spot on the right side of my foot.  Could this be from wearing dancing shoes, weeks after I went dancing?

Seriously?

I decided to visit my best medical team.

They, WebMD, said it could be bursitis, joint fracture, tendonitis, or even, perish the thought, arthritis.  I’m going to throw in other potential causes such as my MS or my imagination.

Who’s to know?

If it gets worse I’ll get it checked out.  And maybe the next time Amy and I go dancing I’ll wear my recommended sneakers.

Not Amy or me

But we WILL go dancing again.

It was fun and if I’ve learned anything at all, life it too short to not have some fun!  Even if it is going to take place after 8 PM.

Dancing queens indeed!!!

Not us either

And speaking of queens, as we get ready for the holidays, I thought I would add this picture of my 14-month-old niece because she is adorable and can’t get much more Christmassy than this.  She either got bored while her parents were putting up the tree or, she has named herself the official Christmas Queen!

I’m going for the latter!!

My niece

Happy holidays to all of you, my friends, whatever winter holiday you may be celebrating.  Please try to have some fun.

Maybe even dance a bit.

And if you’re on Cape Cod for New Year’s Eve and want a fabulous band to dance with, join Joe, Dan, Mel, and Don of Riptide at the Red Nun in Dennis!

Riptide

****Lyrics from ABBA.  Of course*****

ABBA

Remembering when the Motley Two saw Motley Crue

Of friends, multiple sclerosis and heavy metal mania

Welcome to the month of being thankful!  I’m blessed and thankful for many things.  And since great friends and good music (not that I personally consider Motley Crue good music,) are at the top of that list, I thought I would offer this previous adventure for this month’s blog entry.  Serena moved recently and I miss her which is another reason why I chose this blog.  I hope it makes you remember your own wild adventures with your own wild friends.

 

Ahhhh, there’s nothing like a good old summer head banging concert to remind you that you have multiple sclerosis.  Or that you are getting old.  I can’t tell which.

Too often the things that make me feel old could either be signs of old age or signs of MS.  Like the horror that arose when the radio station outside the concert doors asked me a Rolling Stones question and I GOT IT WRONG!!!

There is something completely inappropriate about that.  Yes, my MS brain does face cognitive challenges and memory loss issues but not remembering the answer to an awesome Stones trivia question??  I think it’s time to redo my MRI to find out what’s going on there…

(In case you’re curious, the question was which Stones single was the first to hit #1 in the UK?  I said Come On and I was wrong.  If you are dying of curiosity and just can’t stand reading any further without knowing the correct answer then here you go- the first #1 in the UK was It’s All over Now.)

But I greatly digress-another symptom of both MS and old age.   The saying goes that “my MS is not your MS” and thus it would be wrong for me to say that heavy metal music is not conducive to those with multiple sclerosis.  Maybe some of my MS friends enjoy the extra amp power, screaming vocals and battling bass that make up this music genre.  Maybe you even find that the commotion that roars out of the intense drum kit comforts you.

If so, then you, my friend, are weird.

Yet, I found myself at an Alice Cooper/Motley Crue concert last week which is about the last place I pictured myself being on that Sunday evening.  I went because my dear friend from forever has loved Motley Crue since we were little kids playing air guitar on tennis rackets we didn’t know how to use.

Serena had never seen them live and since they claim this is their final tour, she bought two tickets.  With the craziness that comes from August, she couldn’t find any other metal heads available to go with her.

A concert is a concert and I AM a classic rock chick.   I decided to offer to go that way my friend would have company and could treat herself to a drink or two and I could be her designated driver.

Even though we’re close friends, Serena and I are very different.

She is wild and I tend to be calm.

She’s impulsive and I’m cautious.

She’s  shameless; I’m shy.

She’s spicy; I’m sweet.

She’s crazy in a fun way; I’m crazy in an “annoying pain in the butt” way.

On paper we are as different as different can be.  Yet, we work.

We are a motley duo.

When we arrived at the venue, my first aging/MS frustration took place right in the parking lot.

I had more concert experience than Serena and in her excitement, and my ridiculous fastidiousness, we arrived super early.

Which would’ve been fine if I remembered tailgating.

How could I have completely forgotten that part of the rock concert experience?

I didn’t want to just sit in the car and so I ventured out to be social.  I talked to a family in the car next to us-their pre-teen daughter had grown up on 80’s hair bands.

Then the second frustration then occurred.

Without preparing for tailgating, I was standing outside of the car and standing for me is not very comfortable.  Plus, in front of our car was a pickup truck with 5 good looking guys hanging around it and they weren’t talking to me!

They weren’t rude and thanked me when I caught their fly away shopping bag, but that was it.  No flirtations.  No offer to sit on the bed of their truck.  No innocent conversation.

When had guys stopped wanting to talk to me?  It was depressing.

Some may say that perhaps I should have started talking to them and that by my being shy, they might not have known I was up for being social.  Serena could have fixed this issue in a heartbeat but still in the car, she was very busy.

She was worried about security not letting her make the most of her Motley Crue experience and was thus in the process of concealing important items in her bra.

To say that Serena is well endowed is like saying Motley Crue plays soft rock, Serena’s favorite metal edged ballad Without You non withstanding..  Endowed just doesn’t cut it.

She was working on a tip her daughter had given her,

“The good thing about having big boobs is that you can use them to hide stuff.”

By the time I gave up on visiting and got back in the car, Serena had managed to stuff 2 Vodka Citron nip bottles, a full pack of cigarettes and her camera all into her bra.

And you couldn’t tell!  Even me who has known her forever couldn’t see any evidence.

I panicked  when the female security officer said she was going to pat her down, but Serena didn’t even blink.  And then we were in.

There was a lot of standing.  Standing to get in.  Standing to get patted down.  Standing in the bathroom line which of course, was crucial!  Standing to get beverages…Standing to watch the bands.

At this particular arena when everyone stands, you can’t see a thing, not even on the close up screen which is so low to the stage it hardly seems to help.  It hurts to stand too long and so I had to periodically keep sitting.  I did my best but missed a lot. But I could guess what was going on by the rhythm of the butts seat dancing in front of me.

It wasn’t long before I had to down two Aleve tablets and pull out my bright pink ear plugs.  Why bright pink?  I was pleased to see other people with ear plugs but only mine were bright enough to light up the stadium on their own.

At one point the band appeared on a smaller stage close to us and it was all I could do to stay upright as Serena jumped over me in her sprint to get to Vince Neil– think teen girls rushing the stage when the Beatles hit America.

How did this particular concert make my friend younger while it made me older?  Achy feet, achy legs, and achy ears.

At least I wasn’t whining about the temperature…..”I’m cold, can I borrow your sweater dear?”

But here’s the thing; though Motley Crue is not my kind of music, and not very MS friendly, in balancing things out, I did manage to have some fun.  I got to see flames shooting out Nikki Sixx’s guitar and Alice Cooper get his head chopped off in a guillotine, both of which were pretty cool.

And I did manage to seat dance all through Smoking in the Boys Room, even if it wasn’t quite as energetic as I seat danced at the last Stones concert.

And most importantly, my friend loved it.

I can tell by the hundreds of videos of the concert she’s posted on Facebook.

(Hide your camera in your bra friends-it’s the only way.)

Funny how a Motley Crue concert, like life and even life with MS, can play out when you balance, seat dance every once in a while, and rely on friends.  Relying on friends is key.

When I texted my Stones friend about the epic fail trivia question she pointed out that Come On was the first Stones single to chart in the UK even though it didn’t make #1.  Which helped me to feel better about being old and missing that important answer. At least I was close.

Yes, MS or no, friends help keep us young

Especially the wild ones….

Many thanksgiving blessings to all of you, your family and the your friends, the family you choose!

Of Ghosts and Multiple Sclerosis

Getting my ghosts on……..

To get in the mood for the upcoming holiday of tricks and treats, me and some folks dear to me went on a ghost tour.  We didn’t witness anything actually paranormal but I learned a few things; like the difference between residual hauntings and intellectual ones and what death doors are.

Did you know that in olden times it was thought that if you walked into a cemetary with a dead body you wouldn’t come out?  So death doors were posts where pall bearers could place a casket while the folks carrying it took turms entering the graveyard for burial. 

Fascinating!

There was shock in that I wasn’t the tour participant to trip, stumble and land on the ground and a surprising lack of violence when I didn’t attack my friends for their shock and teasing that I wasn’t the one who fell.  All were ok-thankfully. 

There was also some crying in the oldest wooden jail in the country but those were by kids too young to be on the tour.  And ther was some fright by how many people were stuffed in the old jail. Covid concerns anyone?  Now that’s scary!

But it was fun and interesting and I was pleased that I knew something about ghosts that the tour guide didn’t. 

Specifically, ghosts and multiple sclerosis are connected!

Here’s a prior Halloween blog where I prove it!!!

MS Horror Theory

Halloween is fast approaching and that fact, along with MS and a visit from an old friend, have gotten me thinking about ghoulish things.  And by ghoulish I don’t mean the age of me and my friend, although that is frightening in and of itself.

My friend is one of those that has been a friend forever, although we aren’t able to get together regularly.  But when we do, we can chat away a whole afternoon without realizing how much time has passed. If you have one friend like that, you are lucky. I’m fortunate to have a few and am very grateful.

This friend reads my blog and so in the spirit of my Pumpkins, Pumpkins Everywhere post, she brought me a pumpkin and some Hershey’s Pumpkin Kisses-yummy!

We were chatting and she suddenly said, “wow, how can you take that?  Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”

I had no idea what she was talking about and said so.  What she was referring to were the flashes of light that pass by the window in my new rental.

The rental happens to be on a busy street and I have blinds on the windows which I often leave open for light, but not all the way up as the glare is too much.  When a car passes, it gives off a spark of light.

I was relieved she saw this and mentioned it to me.  I had been living with these sparks since moving in but blamed them on another symptom of MS, (what I always blame things I don’t have an explanation for on,) or, ghosts.  Ghosts didn’t make much sense as this building is fairly new but my MS brain didn’t put together the car/window connection.

Speaking of ghosts, she then brought up a theory about my All Aboard post, the post where I describe regularly hearing a train that doesn’t exist.  After asking several questions, she determined I really was hearing a train.

“But didn’t you read my blog?  There hasn’t actually been a train in these parts since 1938.”

“The bike path went right through the backyard of your old rental and isn’t too far away from here.  You know, the bike path known as the Cape Cod Rail Trail? What you are hearing could be a ghost train,” she said sensibly.

It occurred to me that my friend was right AND she had solved the mystery!  The famous local bike path was built over the old train tracks.  What a relief.  I wasn’t crazy and the train sound wasn’t yet another MS medical mystery.

It was just a ghost!

This shouldn’t have surprised me.  For a while now, I have compared my MS fog state to that of being a zombie.  (See a former halloween blog titled Scary Brain, Scary Movie.)  Aren’t ghosts and zombies closely related?

The more I pondered the ghost explanation the more it made sense.  Especially since, I realized, ghosts have a lot in common with multiple sclerosis.

Ghosts are very popular during Halloween, which is represented by the color orange.  Orange is the color that also represents multiple sclerosis.

Ghosts are very scary at best, absolutely terrifying at worst.  Just like an MS diagnosis!

Ghosts can hang around you for a very long time before they bother you enough for you to pay attention to them.  Just like MS symptoms before an MS diagnosis.

Ghosts can take various forms and can affect people differently.

Sound familiar?

Ghosts can be invisible and so people often don’t believe you when you tell them you saw a ghost.

MS symptoms can often be invisible and so people often don’t believe you when you tell them you have MS.  “But you look so good,” they say.

Ghosts hang around some people but not others and no one knows why.

MS attacks some people but not others and no one knows why.

In spite of voluminous studies and expense, there is no scientific solution that will get rid of ghosts.

In spite of voluminous studies and expense, there is no scientific solution that will get rid of multiple sclerosis.

As Halloween approaches, how is any of this helpful to me and my other MS friends?

What you can’t blame on multiple sclerosis, blame on the supernatural!

You are then covered; people are horrified by both.

Whether you are a ghost or a zombie this year, Happy Halloween friends!

 

 

Coming Down Again, the Tube that is!

Major Radioactive Insanity

Someone near and dear to me is having an MRI soon.  They’ve had MRI’s before, but this one is with contrast and it’s not even to look at MS lesions! 

I thought contrast was ONLY to look at MS lesions.  Who knew that radiologists would inflict such a weird thing as an intravenous dye into other patients besides just patients with the weird disease of multiple sclerosis? 

Maybe that’s why they didn’t color the dye orange, the official MS color?  They likely didn’t want to exclude other conditions and diagnoses if they were going to be shoothing this stuff into people with all kinds of ailments.

Anyway, I feel like MS sometimes limits my ability to be helpful to others.  Not always of course, I have lots and lots of good gifts to offer.  But in this case, one thing I can offer is experience and I sure have experience on the subject of having an MRI! 

And so, even though this is a repeat post, I thought it was time to review it before my loved one’s MRI and for all of you to remember if you have this fun test coming up in the near future.

And if you’re still with me after this post, read on for my rant that has me furious with one of the world’s most beloved companies.  

Lessons from an MRI

2013 started in my world with two afternoons of MRI’s, my fifth set since my body started tingling all over, and not in a good way.   You would think that having previously undergone four MRI’s in a three year period, I would know what to expect.  And since I’m generally not claustrophobic, the process wouldn’t be that horrible.   But each time I walk in, I have completely forgotten lessons learned in the past and its like I’m having this test for the first time.

This year, however, I got smart and thought to write down the things I learned so that I will be better prepared for the sixth MRI series.  And since I will forget where I put this list, I am publishing it here so that maybe some of you can remind me of these lessons when I need them.  Feel free to adopt any of these yourself if you are about to be shot down the tube.

The technologists will tell you that MRI is an abbreviation for Magnetic Resonance Imaging.  They are lying.  MRI is actually short for “Major Radioactive Insanity.”  Major, because while there really isn’t any pain involved, while you are stuck in the tube it feels like a really big deal.

And do not let the technologists tell you any different, there is some sort of radioactivity involved.  If there wasn’t, why would you have to wait for the green sign to light up before you enter the room?  The way the technologists freak out if you step just a little too closely to the door while the light is red, there has got to be some type of radio something or other going on.  Radioactivity, radio frequency, Sirrus satellite radio, whatever.  It is radio something and it is serious.

And insanity?  Yes, what goes through your mind while you are in there is nothing if not insane.

Ladies, you cannot wear a bra.  Even if you know for sure that there’s no metal anywhere in or on your bra, there is, somewhere.  The little hooks or the synthetic material of a sports bra have microscopic bits of metal in them.   Even if you happen to be a 34A and wearing a light cotton/lace thingy with mesh hooks, you need to take it off; if only out of respect for those of us who must wear underwire over the shoulder boulder holders.

 

Go to the bathroom before starting the test.  Once beginning the test, keep reminding yourself you do not need to pee again.  You really don’t.  It is just part of the insanity, this bladder mirage.

If you panic that maybe the technologists have forgotten you in the machine and left for the day, don’t push the panic button to check.   It will only delay the time you are stuck there and really, really annoy them.  And trust me; you don’t want the technologists annoyed with you until after the MRI is over.

If you get super bored, don’t push the panic button just for something to do.  They don’t like that either.

If you think you might seriously panic about being stranded (this particular panic occurs to me during the brain MRI when they actually have to lock my head into the MRI vise), then take their car keys and lock them in your assigned locker.   You won’t be able to take the locker key into the tube with you (its metal), but you can hide it somewhere in the outer room and then kill the time in the tube trying to remember where you hid the key.  At least it will be hidden from the techs so that they can’t leave until they bring you out and you have all searched for the locker key you so carefully hid.

If, while your brain rambles during the test, you get a sudden desire to reach out to an ex-boyfriend, ex- boss, ex- party buddy, ex- friend, or ex- roommate, don’t do it as soon as you get your phone back.  This is another MRI mirage.  If contacting your ex anything wasn’t a good idea before you went into the tube, it is DEFINITELY not a good idea once you get out.

 

If your doctor orders something called “contrast,” at some point the technologist will slide you out of the machine and inject ink into your body. This does not mean that later in the day you will spit, sweat, pee or cry pretty colors, which is a total bummer.  I hoped to create my own MRI/MS Rorschach print. Damn, you just can’t have any fun with MS.

 

Speaking of bodily fluids, you still don’t have to pee.  Well, ok, by now you probably do.   Try to ignore this fact.  You won’t be able to ignore it but trying to will at least give you something else to do until the test is over.

The MRI takes five hours.  It doesn’t really, but if you think that it does before you go in, the actual time it takes will be a little more bearable.

You will be able to keep your socks on.  If you choose to do this, make sure your socks have non skid, gripper soles, like the kind they put on little kids feetie pajamas.  If you don’t, when you are finally free to go you may likely be so excited to get out of there that your socks slip, causing you to slide across the floor, bang your head on the table you just go off of, and have to repeat the whole process all over again to see what damage you have just caused your brain in your excitement to get off the table.

At least the base line tests will already be done.

(So, no, I didn’t actually hit my head on the table when I slid across the floor.  But I came close and MUST remember feetie socks next time.)

Finally, the biggest MRI lesson is that if the technologist gives you a disc to take to your doctor, never, ever look at it without your doctor present.  If you do, you will be convinced that you have the spine of a frog, and the brain of Frankenstein which will cause you to enter into a state of depression the whole week until your appt where your doctor will tell you that what you were actually looking at was an old Rorschach test you happened to have hanging around your disc drive.

Happy insanity, ooops, I mean imaging, everyone.

 

Rant

According to Yahoo news last week, Selma Blair rocked DWTS and judge Carrie Ann Inaba mentioned how touched she was as a fellow member of the invisible illness community.

I would have loved to watch myself, as another member of “the invisible illness community” and as a fan of DWTS. I’ve always talked about the show with others and cheered various contestants with particular struggles, keeping a running tab on Jack Osbourne’s performances, another person with multiple sclerosis. But this year, Disney, the parent company of ABC has chosen to only air DWTS on its Disney+ channel.

Hey Disney, here’s some news, having an illness is expensive and many people in the invisible illness community can’t work full or even part time, and can’t afford all the expensive premium channels out there, including yours. To take a popular show with high ratings and after years insist people pay for it is just wrong. Especially when you feature a role model such as Ms. Blair this season.

 

Having so many channels premiere such great content on free networks, only to be told at the end of the content that the show is available only on a paid channel is obnoxious. But to have a long running free show now aired on a paid channel and then feature a role model for a community consisting of many who can’t afford that channel is just offensive and to me, another sign that Disney’s wholesomeness is rooted first and foremost in the almighty dollar and will do whatever it needs to get the most bang for it’s buck, however and wherever it can.

Ms. Blair, I hope you continue to do well on the show and in life. But Disney, I hope this season’s DWTS gamble fails miserably……

Still Looking for Mr. Clean

The struggle is real

What’s the last thing you want to do in the hot, humid, last days of summer? 

Clean. 

If you’re a germaphobe, what’s the one thing you absolutely must do? 

Clean. 

Neither of those things make cleaning any easier!!!   

This blog post is from several years ago but the struggle remains….  

Every single time…..

Mr. Clean is the Man for Me

Multiple sclerosis tries to clean up

It’s not a secret that I have slight germaphobe tendencies.  I’m not quite ready to lock myself in a plastic bubble (scrubbing bubbles to be precise) just yet, but it’s troublesome.

On a yearly family trip with my mom and sister, I have to run and hide when they watch reruns of Monk. It’s not that the violence is too much for me, but because it frightens me how much I can relate to his mysophobia– the official name of the condition also known as germ tyrant.

But here’s another secret about me that you likely don’t know- while a germaphobe, I’m a lousy cleaner!

Come to my house and it looks neat and tidy and organized and everything is in its place.  But upon further inspection, you’ll see layers of dust that are freaking me out but that I don’t have the energy to get rid of.

(I just dusted five weeks ago- how can there be so much dust again?)

While this particular personal conundrum has nothing to do with MS, my MS does not help the situation.

Frankly, it’s wearing me down.

Earlier this week I desperately needed to clean my bathroom.  And I mean a whole floor to ceiling scrub down.  I had it on my list of things to do for weeks, spot cleaning here and there to combat my mysophobia. 

Thank goodness for Lysol wipes, the super expensive solution to every poor, fatigued germaphobe’s worst nightmares.

Eventually I scheduled a day to attack the bathroom.

Scheduling a day meant I had to find a day where I could rest up for a couple of days before and then be able to rest a couple of days afterwards.

Fellow MS’ers can relate.

That morning I blasted loud rock music to help me accomplish this task.  My MS aches combined with my lack of cleaning abilities combined with my MS lack of balance, made the whole 5 hour job treacherous.

Good thing I had been working on my balance issues with the Wii.  The scary and weird contortions I had to twist into to get to the high places in my shower stall were worst than walking a tightrope between two skyscrapers (the balance game I am using on my Wii–  imaginary skyscrapers but still dangerous.)

Many times I’d have to grab the shower curtain rod to steady myself, like that was really going to protect me should I start to slip.

On my hands and knees scrubbing away at the soap scum in the tub while Pink blasted through my apartment (so what, I’m still a rock star, I got my rock moves, and I don’t need you…) I whined to myself about the difficulty that cleaning had become.  Everything ached and I wasn’t even close to be being done.

Then something truly horrible happened- I glanced at the can I sprayed all over my tub only to see in big letters on the front- KABOOM, Foam-Tastic Toilet Cleaner.

I was cleaning my tub with toilet bowl cleaner!

How could this be?

I know MS made me clueless at times but I’d bought this stuff because of the commercial where the lady sprays her tub with this purple stuff and then everything turns white and sparkly.  But it was toilet bowl cleaner!  Talk about false advertising.  And now I was super grossed out.

I did my best to get off the floor, which took another 5 hours-actually 5 minutes but it felt like 5 hours- and read the tiny fine print on the back.  Seems KABOOM toilet bowl cleaner can also be used on fiberglass and glazed ceramic tiles.

Was my bathroom made of fiberglass or glazed ceramic tiles?

I had no idea.

Should I go to the computer to research this?

I would but was too fearful of mixing my bathroom germs with my keyboard germs.

I collapsed into a corner of the bathroom and returned to scrubbing and thinking, there had to be a better way.  When the folks in the know finished making things to make cooking with MS easier, can’t they start making things to make cleaning with MS easier?

 

My brain fog actually discovered the answer-his name is Mr. Clean!

Pink’s music became replaced with this jingle-

“Mr. Clean, Mr. Clean gets rid of dirt and grime and grease

in just under a minute.

Mr. Clean will clean your whole house

and everything that’s in it!”

Everything?

Me too?

Will he clean me as well?

Sometimes I’m just too tired to even take a shower.  Maybe Mr. Clean will help!  Not on the first date of course, but maybe after a dinner or two.  Before I knew it I was actually fantasizing about Mr. Clean, the man who “was born to clean.”

 

He’s strong, handsome, and he’s the man for me!  I don’t mind that he’s bald.  Some guys rocky baldness in a sexy way, like Howie Mandel, another person with a mysophobia problem.  Come to think of it, so does my MS hero, Montel Williams.

Maybe I could talk Mr. Clean into doing something about those bushy eyebrows but if not, I’m flexible.

That’s it.  I’m throwing all my thoughts of being too tired to date out the dirty window.  Mr. Clean is the man for me!  New life plan- I have to meet him.

And quick, my recently cleaned bathroom won’t stay germ free for long!

 

 

Compensated Market Reasearch Opportunity

Hi my friends!!

As an MS blogger, I often receive invitations to take part in surveys/interviews for market research and things related to life with MS, often for compensation. I don’t always participate. This one however, seems legitimate though I can’t say that for sure.

They have also asked me to share the link to others in order to get more people to apply. Full disclosure, if you fill out this link and qualify to participate in this study, you and I, or a charity of our choice, will be compensated.

If interested, please check it out- https://patients.adeptfieldportal.com/multiple-sclerosis_nf32.php?r=yvonnehttps://patients.adeptfieldportal.com/multiple-sclerosis_nf32.php?r=yvonne

Please know that while I have applied, I can not confirm or deny the studies legitmacy.