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Saturday, February 22, 2014

exacerbation station

Well good morning M.S.! Where are going today? You want me to not use my legs today? You want me to drag my cane through the snow and ice?  You also want me to sit around the house staring at all the things that need to be done yet I can't do?  Looks like we're headed to exacerbation station! How can I refuse?

No, really how can I freakin' refuse?  Honestly I have been doing pretty OK physically lately so I guess the huge weather changes and the little germ Petri-dishes at the dance studio had to catch up with me eventually.

I try not to make a big deal of it anymore at home.  My husband is pretty good, but I can always see the walls start to go up when I say "I'm not feeling well"  He tries, but he feels like if he acknowledges my struggles he is "babying me".  He does not want me to "use M.S. as an excuse to not do things". He is still a very much mind over matter kinda guy and it really drives me nuts. If I could just think my way out of this doesn't he think I would?  Meh it's an old fight and I simply don't have the energy for it.

He invited people over for a game night tonight.  Now I wouldn't mind except the the house is a stye.  The bathrooms are gross, kitchen floor needs mopped, and the normal daily dusting, sweeping .....
Oh and did I mention I am exhuasted?  I really don't want to get all dressed and crap.  Today should just a be me and my kindle and my most awful pair of sweats day, but "we are not going to change our plans just because you're not feeling great".  He's not really as cold as he sounds just very rigid.  Must be all that military training.  Why he married a loosey goosey gimpy hippie like me I'll never know.

I remember one really bad day during an exaserbation a few years ago.  I wanted to get out of the house and we were planning on gutting our bathroom.  He suggested we go to Menards and just window shop a little.  When we got there he pulled up to the front entrance and told me to wait while he gets a wheelchair.  I was like " oh Hell no! I am not being  pushed around in that!"
"I am not going in there with you if you're going to try to walk around"
"I have a cane"
 "you just got out of the hospital and can barely STAND" 
"I'll push the cart"
"no"
" I AM NOT GOING TO BE IN A FUCKING WHEELCHAIR"
 "YOU'RE BEING STUPID"
 "FUCK YOU!"
 "FUCK YOU!" 
 this argument went on much longer and louder, but you get the gist, and so ended our outing to Menards. I like to think I have gotten a little more perspective since then.  Also our therapist made me realize he was only doing what he thought was right to help me.  I guess I can be just as stubborn as he is.  That is the Aquarius in me. 

If I am going to be completely honest I would probably spend a lot more time wallowing in my M.S.edness and feeling sorry for myself if he wasn't there to snap me out of it.

As far as tonight goes I'll greet our guests and try not to obsess on the fact that I didn't get my lampshades vacuumed.

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