Maybe I'm Just Lazy: One Woman's Journey Through MS and Life: Whining my way to a grateful heart...

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Whining my way to a grateful heart...

Instead of sharing how I worked my way through my process to get to a place of humor, perspective, and gratitude, I thought I would share the mucky part before that and see if it makes me feel any better.

I am at the MS Center getting my monthly solumedrol drip, except I had to wait a half hour after the start of my appointment since I missed my March appointment. I am being punished for my non-compliance even though I am here which means I am trying to be compliant. Too late. I'm in the slot and there I will stay.

My feet are still numb and cold and even though I left a message for the neurologist yesterday, I have yet to receive a call back. And even though I am actually present in her office, she has yet to come by to see me and respond to my message about the numb feet. More punishment? I'll show her. She misses the solumedrol and her feet get numb, let her suffer because she deserves it. She brought it on herself.

I am alone. Lots of people are here alone but there are also people who have loved ones with them. It's probably 75% alone and 25% with people. So why I comparing myself to the minority and feeling bad?

The woman who is getting an infusion in the next pot just went to the bathroom. Her husband lifted her from the recliner into her wheelchair and then took her into the bathroom. I'm assuming he had to pull down her pants, put her on the toilet and either empty her cath bag (is there such a thing) or wipe her after she went to the bathroom. Who, exactly, would do that for me? Not that I want to be in a position to be having ANYONE take me to the bathroom but, God forbid, who will take me?

I am feeling like I have no loved ones that love me THAT MUCH. I am filled with self-pity and devoid of all gratitude. I am missing my dad and started crying when the nurse asked me why I missed the March appointment. I am missing that he was a person related to me who gave a shit and who I could count on no matter what. He would never let me be homeless. But I am not homeless. I have a job and a home and a refrigerator full of food.

I am missing Ken, too, not just as my boyfriend but HIM in particular. I am missing his eyes and his voice and his kindness and his hands and his love and his body. I'm not sure why I am missing him here and now. He never came to solmedrol drip appointments with me at this place. He probably would have tried to come if I asked but he never, ever would have offered on his own. Maybe I'm missing who I wish he could have been for me. In our relationship, he gave me a lot but he could not or didn't want to give me his whole self and his whole heart as a life partner. I am missing what he NEVER could give me. But then again, I hate when people feel sorry for me and cling to my independence at all costs so why am I craving that kind of support?

I am tired and want to fall asleep but I'm supposed to be working which I'm not doing anyway, so I should probably stop whining and either do some work or shut my eyes. I keep switching screens from this one to work email and feeling resentful about that.

I am, in short, not in a good place. I am sad, mad, scared, and, generally pathetic. I know that this too will pass. I know that because I am sharing my feelings, they will be halved I will get relief from the poison in my brain.

A woman just came in with a three-month old baby and I feel better looking at his peaceful face asleep in the stroller. Thanks God.

I am not asking for help and I should be. I just closed my eyes and asked but I was not hit by a bold of spiritual lightning.

6 comments:

Kim@stuffcould....April 14, 2009 at 11:16 PM
I also feel alone when I have a husband there sometimes. Great blog and you write well.
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Julie M. BakerApril 15, 2009 at 1:44 AM
Thanks, Stuff. It's amazing how better I feel after giving myself permission to whine, wallow, feel sad, and focus on the negative. I think I may start a Pity Party Planning Consultant business. I could supply the ice cream, chocolate, sappy chick flicks or stories about dying children, an ipod full of sad songs, tissues, tea, and I would even schedule the friends to call or come by and check on you and only listen and say things like, "You're right. That sucks! He sucks! MS sucks! That's very, very sad! I'm so sorry. and, of course, you are going to be ok no matter what."
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AnonymousApril 15, 2009 at 1:37 PM
Hi Julie-Your amazing! and such a power of example for me. Getting the bad feelings out is cleansing and just feels good. I'm glad your doing that!
Just remember God loves you and so do I.

Karen Mac
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Julie M. BakerApril 15, 2009 at 6:01 PM
Thanks, Karen. I learned how to whine so well because of all my fabulous friends who give me permission. ;-)
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ValApril 17, 2009 at 1:16 PM
I think I would collapse from shock if my DH actually volunteered to accompany me to one of my follow-up appts - it was a big surprise for him to come down for my last surgery!
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ms'er faithApril 25, 2009 at 12:22 AM
My hubbie would never volunteer and I often feel alone and isolated. Reaching out to others with disabilities has helped--and I actually like that most of them have some other disease or disability than MS. Hang in there! Beth
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MS is Lazy!

I just read this on an MS support group site and it made me feel better about feeling "lazy."

When the myelin covering on the nerves is lost/disappears/whatever it does, the nerves don't conduct brain messages nearly as effectively. It's kind of like the nerves have to find new pathways for the messages from the brain. So the messages are much slower in reaching their destination and it takes more energy, trying to find the right paths. This made a lot of sense to me and helped my not feel so 'lazy'.

The Spoon Story

I would love to give the proper attribution for this story but I have no idea where I found it! I think it may have been posted to an MS community site.

My best friend and I were in the diner, talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.

As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me with an awkward kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have MS and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about MS. She came to doctors with me and she saw me walk with a cane. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know? I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn't seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of MS. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.

As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity.

I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.

At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have MS”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands. I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted. Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions.

So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case MS, being in control. She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become?

I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of "spoons". But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with, which you wont know until you wake up. To answer your question we’ll start your day with twelve. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out the12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn't even started yet. I’ve wanted more "spoons" for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has MS. I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As, she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do; I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said " No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make your self something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can't take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too." I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Showering cost her a spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon.

I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If my shoulders and back hurt I wont be able to put on a bra. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this. I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons.

I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s "spoons", but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less "spoons". I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a virus comes, or a treatment reaction, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on "spoons", because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.

We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently. Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night. When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained, that I didn’t even bother to add into this game, that she was so dizzy, that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.

I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly “How do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it.

I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared” It’s hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to.

I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day's plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count "spoons."

After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say that she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can't go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said, “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”

Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding MS, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my "spoons".

Maybe I'm Just Lazy: One Woman's Journey Through MS and Life

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Whining my way to a grateful heart...

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Maybe I'm Just Lazy: One Woman's Journey Through MS and Life

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Whining my way to a grateful heart...

6 comments:

Sharing is Nice

Subscribe

Where are you?

MS Books and Related Titles

MS Blogs

The Facts of MS

Info About MS

Who Gets MS?

MS is Lazy!

Blog Archive

The Spoon Story