Seems if I just try often enough, I can (occasionally) log onto my own blog.
Yesterday, I couldn’t log on at all, which was frustrating because I really felt like blogging. I’m a bit of a contrary person. I was going off the idea of blogging somewhat, until I couldn’t, then I wanted to with a passion.
Anyway, had quite a productive day yesterday. I re-instituted my weekly 24h fast. It went really well and I was so proud of myself. Except that it only lasted 7 hrs. So I basically just skipped one meal, heh. Thing is, Michael never knew I was fasting, so he came home yesterday from work with a divine-smelling chicken lasagne (I love lasange!) and very fresh Pick ‘n Pay granary bread (my favourite!), strawberry jam and a biltong flavoured cheese spread. Oh, and a strawberry yoghurt. How was I supposed to withstand such temptation? Okay, I know, it’s no excuse. Where has all my willpower gone? (isn’t that a good title for a song?) I used to have so much when it came to food. In fact, I think I may have already used up my entire lifetime’s quota.
On the plus side, I did manage to do my second (in two days!) session of yogalates. Very pleased about this. It went better than the first time. It may be my imagination, but I feel more flexible and toned already. Could it be?
Today, my dad and I went gymming again. We skipped Wednesday’s session because he went to Jo’burg for a presentation on the Mnt Kilimanjaro trek, which he said was very good. Today I swam 44 lengths of the pool, a personal best. This included 4 lengths of backstroke, which went surprisingly well, apart from me swallowing chlorine-laden water in a gulp. I go to all the trouble of distilling chlorine out of my drinking water, only to go and swallow it in the pool! Still, I felt really good when I got out, and was even able to go into the hardware store next to the gym to buy a plug for our downstairs basin, and walk like a normal person. More or less.
Today I had to get the maintenance people in to see to our toilet. That’s why I had to buy the plug for the basin. Yesterday when the toilet-man was here, he was plunging away in the toilet, and the water was shooting up the plug-hole of the adjacent basin. A bit gross, to tell you the truth. He couldn’t find that there was a blockage, but said that the ‘stuff’ may have packed on in the pipes. I didn’t ask what ‘stuff’ he was referring to. I had a pretty good idea. Anyway, today he brought some drain-cleaner, which he threw in the toilet, flapped the lid down, and advised me not to go near it till tomorrow, after which I can give it a good flush. Good job we have a second toilet upstairs. What do people do who don’t have another toilet, in such circumstances?
I’m a bit worried about Michael. During lunch, he was complaining about dizziness again. Apparently while he was driving, he turned his head to check for oncoming traffic, and it nearly overwhelmed him. I didn’t like that story at all. Hopefully, it was just a temporary set-back. After all, I did read that it takes six to eight weeks to completely recover from a middle-ear bug like this. Unfortunately , as much as I hate him driving around when he’s not 100%, I fear that I am even more of a danger on the road, so I can’t really drive him around. With my feet being so numb, I can’t always distinguish properly between the different pedals. It’s happened twice now that while pulling off in first gear, I pumped on the petrol, instead of the brakes. Luckily, I had the clutch in both times, and managed to rectify the situation.But frankly, I’ve lost my nerve for driving a bit. I’m scared I screw up big time, and total our new car. And myself, for that matter. And Michael, come to think of it.
When the nurse came to see M this week, to do some medical tests for the new policy he’s taking out (cholestrol, HIV, bp etc.) She measured his height, which is 1.97m. She commented that he was probably really good at high-jump, at school. He laughed, and said that although everyone always expected him to be, he was bad at high- and long-jump.
I was lost in my own thoughts after that, nostalgic for a time four and a half years ago. Nov 2002. We were at the beach, Michael and I, my older sister and her hubby, and my younger sister. For some reason, we got it into our heads to have a long-jump competition on the beach. And I out-jumped all of them, including my brother in law, who gave it a real good go. I’d had MS for a year then, but no physical problems yet. Now, I can’t jump at all. I can’t get both my feet to leave the ground simultaneously. Sometimes it’s hard to cope with. I was really athletic at school. Little did I know how fleeting it would be.
Okay, so that’s the glass half-empty. Now let’s take a look at the half-full version:
Back a few years to Jul/ Aug 2005. Worst two months of my life, hands down. By then I was resigned to having to take cortisone every six months or so to ward off relapses. But I was still taking the full 5 gram course, and the gap between infusions was in an ever-decreasing spiral. This was before I learnt of the 1 gram dose that I can get away with. No-one told me, because that’s not how it’s done. I had to be my own researcher, my own guinea pig. Anyway, what I was told was that I had to wait at least six months between cortisone drips. And when I started getting the next relapse after only two months, I had to bite the bullet and wait it out. Only, I started degenerating very quickly. By the time I had reached the four month mark, I was wheel-chair bound and then bed-ridden. I battled to turn over in bed, and had to use my arms to move my legs around. I couldn’t even transfer to the wheel-chair by myself. Actually, I don’t like to write about this too much, so I’ll cut it short. After four months, I said this is enough and went to hospital, got the drip, and have been recovering ever since. Today, though I can’t jump, I can walk around quite reasonably, drive a car, cook meals, bake, wash clothes and dishes, go shopping, irritate Michael [or so he says 😉 ], swim a kilometer, do yogalates with ease, as well as Chi Kung. I can get in and out of my bath with ease, work on the computer for hours without feeling so dizzy I think I’m going to fall off the chair. I can play the piano again, I can massage M’s back and feet for him after a hard day’s work. I can live my life!
And this is why my glass is not half-full. It is completely full. It is brimming over.
This is why I wake up every day with a song in my heart, and say, “thank You.”
Because the girl who wondered if she would ever walk again, is living the life she’s always dreamed about. Loving the little things. Not taking anything for granted. Appreciating what a truly wonderful gift life is.