“I felt sorry for myself because I had no shoes — until I met a man who had no feet.” ~ Jewish Proverbs
Or at least that’s what I feel like.
MS tends to put me in a fragile wavering psychotic state.
Between the optic neuritis, numbness, fatigue, dropping things, tripping and falling I think I may be losing my mind.
My dream for normal used to be so strong but now it is slowly withering away. Each passing day brings me less confidence that I can get my former life back. I always keep a little hope alive but that may be because I can’t face the reality that I will never get back to normal again.
MS just makes everything suck sometimes. Like when I can barely push my wheelchair two feet without getting tired. Sometimes I can only do two rotations before my arms begin to give out. I don’t think that hardly being able to move about is a good sign at all.
Despite that limitation, since my home is small, you would think that making it to the restroom would be easy even for someone who occasionally has trouble maneuvering around. But that’s not always the case.
On one of my particularly bad days, while trying to stand, my right leg decided to give out and make me better acquainted with the floor. I was trying to go to the restroom and ended up on the bathroom tile, only a few feet away from the toilet. To further humiliate myself, while face down on the floor, I could no longer stop myself from urinating. It began to trickle and I knew I had only seconds left before I was at the point of no return. I crawled and actually made it to the side of the toilet but that was about as far as my arms could pull me. Then my bladder could not hold it back any longer. Suddenly the urine broke free and it was a full-blown gusher.
I began to cry.
Yes, I was lying on the bathroom floor crying and peeing at the same time.
The worst part was that I could hear my husband, Tommy, coming into the front door. He was back from a 30-minute workout at the gym. He rarely leaves me at home alone for more than an hour. I knew he would be heading straight to the restroom to cleanup after his workout so I only had a few moments. I quickly tried to close the door by kicking it shut but my legs would not respond. Before I could think of a plan b he had turned the corner and was standing over me.
The funny thing about Tommy is that he always appears so stoic.
He asked me, “Are you alright?”
Totally embarrassed, I shook my head yes and continued to softly cry.
He lifted me to my feet and walked me over to the toilet. I sat there while he helped me get my clothes off and then assisted me as I got into the bathtub. I ran the water and he got me towels. As I sat in the tub soaking he cleaned the urine off the floor. It was taking him a while as it had spread throughout the bathroom. I sat in the tub watching him. I started to think that he didn’t sign up for this. If I were only normal again this would have never happened.
I just kept saying, “I‘m sorry. I‘m sorry. I‘m sorry.”
From his hands and knees while crouching in urine, he looked at me and said, “Don’t ever apologize for having MS.”
This article was first published by MultipleSclerosis.net.