Mortal Enemies - Multiple Sclerosis

  Mortal Enemies -  Multiple Sclerosis

Heat and humidity are the mortal enemies of Multiple Sclerosis patients and today I am sweaty and uncomfortable. My right arm is hurting as I am staring at a picture of Montel Williams on his book cover of Climbing Higher. Kick ass book and bless his heart for writing it. It's always shocking when someone in the public eye gets sick and has to deal with devastating disease as though he was just a member of the general population.

When your world is diminished down to your humble abode you might start to act a little goofy and maybe that's a good thing. Maybe that's where imagination comes from. Maybe that's where inspiration sparks; in that goofy space where nothing else will fit and it doesn't make any difference because all you want to do is create…or scream.

I understand that that is where much genius comes from. I'm not quite there yet in that insane place in the mind where a switch is loose and a tire has blown out. And I am certainly not a genius…

Thank you God, I am not schizophrenic or manic-depressive and if it weren't for this goddamn Multiple Sclerosis I would be perfectly healthy.

I am not a da Vinci or a van Gogh or a Jim Morrison. I am Renae Clare and I have MS and that's enough to keep me bawling intermittently, teary when I think too much, and starting to cry when I see heartwarming episodes of Extreme Home Makeover. Those episodes make me feel as though I should get up off my fat lazy ass and go start a not-for-profit organization until I remember, oh yeah, I am in a wheelchair so I can't get off of my fat lazy ass which by the way is not that fat, even though it is wheelchair shaped and I am not lazy.

 I am just fatigued and my neurological system does not work right and that includes my brain, spinal cord, and nerves so the signals don't get their as quickly as they should or they get sent to me totally wrong place. Probably to my goddamn potty mouth or my  bladder. I am flummoxed yet again

And therein lies the rub. No matter how fast I am thinking, no matter how swiftly I am typing in my mind, no matter how quickly my brain is churning out words and thoughts and brilliant pieces of information, I have to backtrack and clear up the errors that I have made along the way. And they are many.). And that is so very, very frustrating it makes me want to head butt Montel’s book and since that wouldn't hurt very much (or be very nice) it is right up my alley. I really don't need another big bloody gash on my forehead or another broken bone.     renaeclare.com