TAG! You're It...

AWRIGHT! In the words of Dr. Evil (from the movie, "Wayne's World", in case you are wondering where this profound quote originated), "THROW ME A FRICKIN' BONE HERE!"

I have taken a few minutes in the past 24 hours to TROLL just a couple of the links to other web pages/blogging sites I find secretly embedded in my stats page, and I have ACCIDENTALLY stumbled upon two more wonderful MS BLOGGERS... Shauna and Kim ...respectively known via blogs, "Bugs, Bikes, & Brains", and "Sunshine & Moonlight". Yes, they HAVE been added to the now 108 MS Blogs To Suck Your Time link on my side bar.

But, seriously folks...if you ARE an MSer reading this blog AND you write your OWN MS Blog, throw me a frickin' bone here and leave me a comment with your blog web address! You are obviously writing something you'd like to be read that will reach the entire world via the Internet, so why not let me link you to my list? The only people who come to BRAINCHEESE are other MSers, Jesus Camp followers, and sadly, my coworkers! And my coworkers will leave you alone as will the CAMPERS...just as long as you don't use the words, "Fetus, Jesus, Camp, Gays, or Abortion" in your posts...I seriously don't know WHAT buzz words attract my coworkers here...

If you are *waiting* for ME to discover you, it may not happen until a frozen day in...ah...SEATTLE, such as today. So, toot your own horn and drop a comment or an email because everyone with MS deserves to read what you have to say...and YOU deserve to be heard.

I find it both exciting and disheartening to have stumbled upon 108 MS bloggers...I KNOW there are more of you I have not found via web trolling and an unfortunate still MORE of you yet to begin writing your blogs. It seems once the shock of the diagnosis wears off OR MSers suddenly discover the world of Internet Blogging, our MS Blogging Club Membership seems to grow.

I wish I had the time in my daily grind/schedule to visit each and everyone of you...if for no other reason than to leave my comments on your blogs because I think I am "hi Larry usly" funny...and, sadly, I am the ONLY one who holds this belief about myself. But, I notice as people make "hits" on the CHEESE link to the 108 list, they DO often take the time to carefully review MANY of the individual blog links listed (how do I know this? Moohahaha...stats page!).

So, come on! Let me know who you are...you can't run and you can't hide from the ever-knowing CHEESE. If I have to come searching for you on my own, well...I don't know what might happen, but...let's just no GO there, shall we?!?...

Baby, It's Cold Outside...

In the words of MDMHVONPA (who seems to have disappeared into thin air this past week), I believe he once wrote something like, "It is so cold outside, my nipples are as hard as diamonds and could cut concrete"...but you'll have to check the archives of his blog for the exact quote. I'm just poorly plagiarizing here. LOL

I don't know if I have the same "skill" level in the cold as dear MDMHVONPA, but I CAN tell you it is "colder than a well digger's a$$" right now in Seattle! At the moment, around 1:00AM, the temperature is at 35 degrees and falling rapidly...tomorrow's high isn't supposed to get out of the 30's. People! That's friggin cold for this wet, maritime area!!!

Unsuspecting me left my home this afternoon without upping the dial on my heat...I came home to frigid temperatures and a cat that looked as though SHE could use a fur coat. I have since cranked up the thermostats, boiled water for hot tea, and am considering warming up my frozen bones in a hot bath before going to bed. This is just TOO darned cold for the likes of my sensitive bod!

Ah, Miss Chris? Got any extra rooms for rent in that ARIZONA DESERT you call home??? I could be on a plane tomorrow morning...just as soon as they DE-ICE the wings!...

Things That Chap My MS A$$:

1. Perfectly healthy-appearing people who shamelessly park in handicapped parking because they never turned in Grandpa's parking permit when he died in the early 80's.

Come on, folks! Grandpa probably DID need the parking pass because he was toting around an oxygen tank compliments of having to ride with YOU in your zippy sports car...your driving took his breath away. But if you are able to park your midlife crisis vehicle at the effing gym and JOG your way into the 24Hour Fitness Club, I imagine the extra exercise you'll accumulate WALKING from the lot across the street into your massage appointment will do you a world of good!

2. Doctors who prescribe medications without REALLY knowing what the medication might do to you.

It is my personal belief ALL physicians during their formative medical school years should have to SAMPLE each and every medication they might prescribe to their patients once they are cut loose with that dangerous prescription pad. I think until physicians can really EXPERIENCE the effects of the toxic chemicals they casually pass off to their patients, they really DON'T have a full appreciation for the wonders of medicine...THEIR medicine that we are told has MINIMAL side effects. I would guess if doctors were told to take, oh say, THORAZINE as an example, they'd definitely study up on what it could or couldn't do to their unsuspecting body. I don't ask my doctors to pop a dirty, unidentified pill in THEIR mouth that I've discovered on the examination floor, and I don't think they should ask ME to pop a dirty, unidentified pill in MY mouth that I find in a prescription bottle without being told it's positive and likely negative side effects.

3. People who DON'T have MS who tell me to "think positive thoughts".

Let me attach a 6 inch rubber band around YOUR waist while wearing one roller skate and one high heeled shoe on the other foot while poking a pin repeatedly in your right eye as I keep you up sleep-deprived for the rest of YOUR unknown existence...then we can talk about POSITIVE ATTITUDES and "thoughts". I imagine you'd HATE you, too, if someone uttered your stupid "positive thoughts" idea to you with the above conditions attached.

4. Zealous religious fanatics who tell me I need to PRAY harder and/or they will be "praying" for me also as a means of curing my MS.

OK...news flash. I think if God IS involved in my diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis, don't you think He/She already KNOWS I have MS? And if God could CURE my MS, what makes me such a bad person that He/She hasn't already CURED me in the first place?!? I personally don't believe "God" gave me MS...because, if He/She did, that's one MEAN Higher Power "som bitch". I just don't think "God" has such a cruel sense of humor.

5. People who feel a need to tell me about their friend's daughter's cousin's half-sister on their nephew's side of the family who has MS and did "this or that" to cure/fix/rid/assist them and you "wouldn't even know they have MS".

Yeah, thanks for the tip, idiots. You're right...I'm an uneducated imbecile who knows nothing ABOUT the disease because I've kept my head in the sand and chosen a neurologist from Timbuktu who never reads a medical journal. Oh, and by the way, "wouldn't even know they have MS" is why the friggin disease is called a HIDDEN DISORDER! If I hadn't told YOU I had the disease, you wouldn't even be having this conversation with me...it's not like I have a scarlet "MS" symbol tattooed upon my chest either. And if BEE STINGS were such a wonderful cure, I think I should have obtained full immunity to MS as a child, because I certainly had my fair share of bee/wasp/bug stings and bites running freely in the fields BEFORE I was diagnosed with the disease.

6. People who tell me I just need to "not get stressed out" about having MS because it worsens the disease.

OK, I'll give you a few points on this one. Current research DOES link stress increases to exacerbations...you are right. But don't you think if I COULD not get "stressed out" I would?!? I really don't have a death wish anymore than YOU do...unless by having this conversation you are hoping I might KILL YOU out of mere frustration from your ignorance as a means of controlling my stress, too. Hmmm...guess that would eliminate two birds with one stone, wouldn't it?!? Your "death wish" and my stress level...

7. Other MSers who insist that what has worked for THEM to deal effectively with THEIR version of the disease is the ONLY thing that will be successful for ME.

Last time I checked my birth certificate, I wasn't born with a twin, folks. So that means MY DNA is quite different from yours...not to mention my life experiences and probably my prior exposure to other diseases/bugs/germs/attitudes/people/toxins. Don't get me wrong here...I'm overjoyed with delight that YOU have found something that you believe has helped you stay strong and active and prolonging the disability of MS. But your "cure" isn't necessarily mine because MS affects us all very uniquely. So please save your strength when trying to hit me repeatedly over the head with self-proclaimed anecdotal information on what I should or shouldn't do to be just like you. And please don't threaten to stop being my "MS friend" or kick me out of the "MS Club" because I DON'T follow your advice and continue to make my OWN choices to try this or take that drug or pop this supplement or even DO NOTHING AT ALL. When we meet in the after life, you can feel free THEN to chastise me for not following your advice...we're probably BOTH going to make it to that destination around the same time anyway.

It Wouldn't Be Funny If It Weren't True...

I was in a mad dash this early afternoon to get my shower completed, fix something to take to work for supper, and get dressed and out the door on time to beat the evil time clock. I hate to be rushed because I become a "mush brain" and misplace important items as well as forget to TAKE important items out the door with me...like car keys. But that's another post...

So, today I was a bit discombobulated as I flew from my shower to get dressed and ready for work...already feeling I might be late if I didn't pick up my pace. I managed to secure a set of underwear (that would be top AND bottom equals a "set") socks, and slacks, only to discover I would need to press/iron my blouse unless I wanted the look Seattle is most famous for...GRUNGE! I dashed into my study where I keep my beloved ironing board (remember...I iron my sheets! This item is more sacred than my refrigerator) and cranked my super-duper iron on to await its steamy heat.

I typically keep all of my "essential" work tools in one place so I don't forget anything...my work keys, money, wallet, pocket change, badge/ID, and favorite ink pen (for signing those detention orders) lay in wait on a shelf to be deposited in my pockets as I go out the door. And, since I had my slacks already on, most of these items fit nicely in my pants pockets...except for the BIG GRIP ink pen I carry.

Not wanting to be slowed down in my already-feeling-late-for-work-waiting-for-the-iron-to-heat-up mode, I quickly shoved my pants pocket items in the front pouches of my pants and stood staring at my ink pen. Deciding it wouldn't fit well in my pants pocket (or, gawd forbid, might "ink" up my pants), I quickly shoved the HUGE PhD Big Grip pen down the front of my...er...valley between the Grand Tetons as a temporary "holding cell" for my writing equipment until I could get my blouse ironed and adjusted appropriately.

Now, let me first offer a disclaimer here. I am not the most "sensitive" of persons. I tend to have a fairly high pain tolerance (doesn't EVERYBODY say that?!?) and I've even watched minor surgeries done to my feet and other areas of my body. I don't generally notice much when I accidentally bump into things until nasty bruises form. I've started IV's on myself before (albeit usually INTOXICATED in nursing school...but that is ALSO information for a separate post!) and most shots/pokes/prods, etc., don't phase me much.

But I DID assume I maintained "normal" feeling in my...er...Grand Teton area. And without going into gory details about any past experiences in that landscape region, I'm pretty sure I have reasonable sensitivity in my upper "hills and valley".

I just returned home from a long evening at work and disrobed (again, not said to frighten or nauseate you), only to discover my favorite ink pen I had been pining for all evening long remained nestled between my...er...hills and valley!!! I had somehow forgotten where I had placed it, even "bitching" royally at work that "someone" might have thieved it from me when I wasn't looking (we are all very protective of our favorite pens in my job...because we USE them so much). And what is worse?...NOT ONE OF MY COWORKERS MENTIONED THE OBVIOUS AND PROTRUDING BULGE I WAS DISPLAYING IN MY...er...CLEAVAGE AREA!!!

There it was...sticking out like a log fallen on a hillside...my favorite PhD pen poking fun. I wondered why I set off the metal detector at the jail, even AFTER I had "de-jailed" at my office and removed the "hazardous" items I usually carry (like keys, gum, etc...serious weapons to inmates, I'm sure...LOL). Fortunately, the evening guard/officer at the gate knows me well and did not submit me to the evil "wand". Had he done this, I would have surely been very embarrassed to hear the wailing beep of the wand sound as he passed it over my...er...frontal appendage area. And even much worse, having to suffer through the look of amazement and amusement as I retrieved a GIANT PEN from my...er...private space!

I'd sure like to blame this little fashion "fox paw" on MS, but even I know I can't get away with THAT one...

No Wonder I'm So FAT!...

I don't often plug websites here on CHEESE (just other MS blogs :) ) unless they have some connection to Multiple Sclerosis...this IS an MS blog, after all, and I like to stick with the topic at hand...unless, of course, my political/religious/philosophical/spiritual/financial/health care opinion is in NEED of being broadcast to the entire world. And it is unfortunately ME who decides that need (versus a straw poll amongst all 3 of you that read this blog!).

But, in the same vein of "feeling good", I wanted to share with all y'all a website I have been using for the past 3 weeks as a means of tracking my daily intake...otherwise known as my "intake plan" (what some might shamelessly refer to as the dirty "D" word...diet). I have found it to be most enlightening and useful in my purpose of becoming more AWARE of what I am shoving down my throat in the name of nutrition.

The website is called, "The Daily Plate", and is found at http://www.thedailyplate.com/ . The most impressive aspect of this website is the fact it is FREE...yes, I said FREE! All one needs to do is sign up (no, they don't ask for the name of your first born or a credit card "just in case"...it really is FREE), then begin using the program as you see fit. The site can track your weight, your daily intake, your weight and calorie goals, your weight loss goals, provides a daily entry for diary purposes, and gives clear, graphic representation of the basic components of one's dietary intake such as protein, carbs, fats, sodium, and cholesterol. It has a "food bank" list of well over 1,000 different foods found in restaurants and grocery stores, so inputting data onto your "daily plate" is fairly easy...it even allows for manual input of calories if you can't find a particular food and also allows you to put in any exercise accomplishments (the site will even subtract your "sweat burning calories" out of your daily allowances, giving a net caloric intake).

I have found the site to be most useful in really coming to terms around JUST HOW MUCH CRAP I HAVE BEEN EATING FOR THE PAST SEVERAL YEARS! For instance, (and hypothetically speaking...LOL) did you know that ONE Hostess HOHO costs 125 calories?!? One measly, little HOHO...geez. And a pat of butter weighs in at a hefty 36 calories??? Well, you get the picture...my "treats" that I have been treating myself with for the past umpteen years have been depositing on my back side (OK...I admit it...my FRONT SIDE, too) at a hefty (pun intended) cost!

It is with great shame and guilt I DID take the half naked photos that most food gurus suggest one snaps as they begin making changes in their daily intake...I discovered my a$$ was so big (I can't see it regularly, so I just assumed the caboose was proportionate), I needed a panoramic lens with wide angle adjustment just to capture the scene in its entirety! I discovered every, little HOHO had not so nicely deposited to my back side...little yummy bastids...how DARE they?!?

Anywhooo...if you find yourself looking for a way to keep better track of your intake (I now suffer from food PTSD, so use with caution), The Daily Plate offers a useful resource in doing so. And, no...I was NOT paid in any way to advertise this. Besides, I would only want payment via a life time shipment of HOHO's at this point anyway...

Survivor's Guilt...Subtitled: Should I feel BAD about feeling GOOD?...

I seem to be in the second "R" of my RRMS diagnosis at the moment...the "Remitting" portion of the show. I am 3 weeks out from my last Novantrone dose and I'm feeling the burst of energy and wellness that has often come following the infusion of the blue dye. I have lost 9.5 pounds because of a commitment to a new intake plan, I am up to walking a distance of 2 miles at a time again, the tight banding around my waist and chest is all but a slight pressure, my gait is steady, I am less fatigued, and I only have the minor annoyance of pain in my left arm and shoulder and stiffness in my calves...the only remnants I have to remind me I have holes in my brain and spine that have given me the diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. I feel as *normal* as normal can get for me and it feels good.

So, why do I feel a tinge of guilt telling all y'all this? Should I shut my pie hole and just keep this flight into wellness a dirty, little secret? Am I rubbing salt into someone else's wounds who DOESN'T feel as good as I do right now with their MS?

In so many of the MS blogs I read, I witness the many difficulties faced and the adversities we each deal with every hour of every day. Some of us can't walk at all while others can barely walk 2 blocks let alone 2 miles at a time. Some of us are in constant, excruciation pain and others have lost hearing/voices/sight. And still others are urinating blood clots, dealing with medication side effects that are nasty, and fighting each day with overwhelming fatigue.

When I feel this good in my life with my MS, there is a part of me that worries my MS club membership will be revoked! Sounds absolutely silly, doesn't it? I should be REJOICING and PRAYING for that to happen...to be kicked off the MS team. If we could all be THAT lucky...

And when I feel this good, I LOOK this good, too...absolutely no one would ever know what lies deep inside my noggin when I am in the remitting phase of my MS...sometimes I even forget for periods of time that I have a chronic, progressive neurological disease. It's NOT denial...it is just the absence of relapsing symptoms. Without those acute reminders thrown up in front of my face, it's relatively EASY to forget...until the symptoms return to remind me.

I imagine these times are sort of like the psychological experience of survivor's guilt. The person who remains alive does not have a WISH to be dead...just like I have NO WISH to experience some of the horrible symptoms many of you are dealing with currently or have dealt with on a daily basis for a long time. It all boils down to my sense of wanting to FIX what you are having to go through...to be able to give each of you a small piece of the *normal* I feel...because YOU deserve to feel this good, too.

There certainly seems to be enough of the "feeling bad" to go around...such is the nature of an unpredictable disease. I just wish there were equal amounts of the "feeling good" to be distributed...evenly and fairly...amongst everyone with MS...

The Mentors Who Have Shaped Me...

There was Miss Vienop in 2nd grade...she let me/encouraged me to stay in during recess and draw. She was an artist herself, working primarily in oils. In the 2nd grade, I could copy almost anything in pencil...my mother saved several of my drawings that are far better than the stick figures I can only draw now.

Mrs. Naysmith in the 5th grade allowed me to stay after school and help her in the library. I didn't want to go home..."home" wasn't the nicest place for me. She listened to me and kept my secrets...secrets only an 11 year old would find important...things I did not feel safe to utter out loud to anyone else.

Miss Garrells in the 6th grade read my poetry and short stories and encouraged me to express my emotions through words...she helped me to feel confident and find meaning in the difficult things in life.

Mrs. Schardt in the 8th grade pushed me to work hard in basketball. She taught me the meaning of teamwork and that winning wasn't measured by points on a score board.

Miss McKinsey in High School taught me not to be afraid and to speak out. She encouraged me to use my "powers" for good, instead of "evil" (LOL) and the art of leadership. She taught me the importance of being in the moment...to write about that moment...and sent my writings to papers to be published. She showed me the importance of persistence and also humility.

Connie, my first therapist, held my hand through difficult college years and helped me find my own strength when I thought I had lost it. She helped me to make sense out of senseless things and to use a painful childhood as a means to grow.

Kathy, my nursing school instructor, helped me to see the value of personal discipline and the importance even brief interactions can have on another human being...that compassion IS an art that one must practice repeatedly in order to paint the best landscape on the human canvas.

Carmela bore witness to my grief over the loss of my friend and sister. She wiped my tears and taught me that even in loss, there is growth...that even in sorrow, there is sunshine.

Marg taught me to stand up straight and to carry myself with pride. She told me once to "Take the power. You'd be surprised how much people will give you if you only take it." I have never forgotten those words. The words helped me in difficult management tasks when I felt vulnerable or not qualified in my job.

Jade opened my eyes to the beauty around me in the world...to appreciate the earth and everything on it. She taught me to let go and to live out loud...to sing in the car regardless of my voice...to FIND my own voice...and to touch the fire burning deep inside me.

Kristin showed me the way out from under an oppressive rock that weighted my chest down, making it difficult to breath. She taught me patience with myself, the merriment of laughter, the strength in tears. She continues to guide me and to shape me, with the kind hands of a skilled glass artisan...a glass vessel still in the making.

And today, I had the great fortune of spending some time with a prior boss from my current job...someone I consider a mentor in many ways. Someone who encouraged me by supporting my strengths and helping me to become aware of my weaker spots. Someone who I always felt had my MS back in an employment arena that is not always supportive to those of us with developing disabilities. Someone who truly "accommodated" my physical weaknesses while encouraging me not to lose hope or sight of the bigger picture.

I am still a work in progress...but if it weren't for the experiences that brought "fire" to my life, no matter how painful they may have been, I would not have had the catalyst needed to melt me into the medium my mentors have used to shape me...and they continue to shape me so wonderfully...

Words Laden With Familiar...

Bestest bud, coworker, and poet extraordinaire, Rojoo sent me this poem in the wee hours of the morning. It is titled, "THE RAPTURE", by Cynthia Huntington...tears of understanding still pooling in my eyes...

I remember standing in the kitchen, stirring bones for soup,

and in that moment, I became another person.

It was an early spring evening, the air California mild.

Outside, the eucalyptus was bowing compulsively

over the neighbor's motor home parked in the driveway.

The street was quiet for once, and all the windows were open.

Then my right arm tingled, a flutter started under the skin.

Fire charged down the nerve of my leg; my scalp exploded

in pricks of light. I shuddered and felt like laughing;

it was exhilarating as an earthquake. A city on fire

after an earthquake. Then I trembled and my legs shook,

and every muscle gripped so I fell and lay on my side,

a bolt driven down my skull into my spine. My legs were

swimming against the linoleum, and I looked up at the underside

of the stove, the dirty places where the sponge didn't reach.

Everything collapsed there in one place, one flash of time.

There in my body. In the kitchen at six in the evening, April.

A wooden spoon clutched in my hand, the smell of chicken broth.

And in that moment I knew everything that would come after:

the vision was complete as it seized me. Without diagnosis,

without history, I knew that my life was changed.

I seemed to have become entirely myself in that instant.

Not the tests, examinations in specialists' offices, not

the laboratory procedures: MRI, lumbar puncture, electrodes

pasted to my scalp, the needle scraped along the sole of my foot,

following one finger with the eyes, EEG, CAT scan, myelogram.

Not the falling down or the blindness and tremors, the stumble

and hiss in the blood, not the lying in bed in the afternoons.

Not the phenobarbitol, amitriptylene, prednisone, amantadine, ACTH, cortisone,

cytoxan, copolymer, baclofen, tegretol, but this:

Six o'clock in the evening in April, stirring bones for soup.

An event whose knowledge arriving whole, its meaning taking years

to open, to seem a destiny. It lasted thirty seconds, no more.

Then my muscles unlocked, the surge and shaking left my body

and I lay still beneath the white high ceiling. Then I got up

and stood there, quiet, alone, just beginning to be afraid.

Jesus + Camp = Way Too Many Hits On This Blog!...

As all good bloggers do, I keep a statistics program running in the background on CHEESE that lets me know who, what, when, and where someone drives by here to read my profound musings (argh argh). It provides me with general locations of readers (AND your super secret IP addys...whatever good THAT information is), what web pages you've come from to get here, your bra sizes, and...no wait! I'm just kidding about the bra sizes (I heard that loud exhale of air/"whew" sound, Adina!). The program DOES tell me what search words are used also that lead someone to the drivel written on CHEESE.

Every day, I get somewhere between 30-50 "hits"/drive bys/readers coming to BRAINCHEESE because of this post and this one...last summer's rants about the movie, "Jesus Camp". It seems one cannot write both of those words in a sentence without creating controversy! I have gotten a few "choice" emails from obvious CAMPERS chastising me for the above mentioned posts...thank GOD/JESUS they don't post any comments because my policy about moderating comments is very lenient...don't be obnoxious toward anyone ELSE and your comment gets approved. Say what you want about me, my lack of grasp on the English language, or my personal opinions (one might get a comment BACK in the "comment section", but the comment won't be deleted), but trashing anyone else's comments/thoughts/views/opinions is simply not allowed here...I think that's a pretty fair policy.

I'm kind of amazed actually that some of the zealot CAMPERS who do take the time to send me an email praying for my soul's redemption, etc., DON'T leave a comment...but I imagine they believe I WILL just delete their comment, so why bother? Either that, or they are afraid ANOTHER regular CHEESE reader with MS who believes in stem cell research or is not of the Christian faith might respond...that would scare the "bejesus" out of ME! Some of you MS commentors DO have command of the English language (unlike me) and are extremely knowledgeable and intelligent (sigh...again, unlike me) as well as sharp witted (I try). LOL

We live in America..."allegedly" one of the most free countries in the world where freedom of speech is protected (as long as we don't say anything that rubs the current Administration the wrong way!). We can pretty much say what we want, when we want, and how we want. That darned Constitution just keeps coming back to bite us in the a$$ about this issue. :) And I will continue to exercise my Constitutional privilege to say what I want, and when/how I want to say it here on CHEESE...just as I will allow YOU, the obviously bored reader with nothing better to do than travel down the path of my blathering and distorted writing (because we ALL know if it weren't for Spell Check, NONE of this would be readable!).

In the infamous words of my deceased best buddy, Rodney (who died of AIDS because, yes...he was...GAY! Shhhh...), "The world is a big place. If you don't like me, take two steps back." Or, in the case of the Internet or TV, TURN THE CHANNEL!!! Because this is what you're always gonna find broadcast here...my opinion of the world/life/MS as seen through my eyes...and YOUR eyes, if you choose to comment...

Hmmm...I wonder how many "hits" and emails I will get if I just type the words, "JESUS CAMP" over and over? Jesus Camp, Jesus Camp, Jesus Camp, Jesus Camp, Jesus Camp, Jesus Camp...LOL...

The Curse Of Snow...

Well, not only did my Seahawks football team suffer an embarrassing loss to Greenbay in *it*, but *it* has once again fallen from the sky here in my Emerald City...the *it* being SNOW! Stoke the fire and break out the hot chocolate...at least for a day or two. Seattle has a thin coating of snowy ice blanketing the hilly streets. And just as soon as we are all well into traffic jams and car accidents, the darned stuff will melt away without leaving a trace *it* existed...and we will all wonder what the big deal was as we explain to our auto insurance companies exactly HOW we managed to dent up our vehicles. Or, how the Seahawks managed to LOSE a playoff game in what appeared to be blizzard conditions on Saturday in Greenbay (the Packers just thought it was a "light dusting"...LOL).

Saint EB kindly provided limo service for me after work this evening so we could go spend a few minutes together catching up while eating out...she picked me up promptly at 6:30PM from downtown Seattle. We drove up the hill (everywhere from downtown Seattle is UP hill) to our favorite dive and spent a measly 40 minutes indoors chatting. There was no rain or precipitation falling at all BEFORE we got to the establishment. After about 40 minutes, EB exclaimed, "Look out there! It's snowing!" And by gawd it was...it was not only snowing, but the streets were covered in snow and sleet.

She insisted on driving me home immediately, but after only one block of traffic, we aborted that plan and I opted to walk the 5 or 6 blocks to my bus stop and take my chances Metro (buses) was still running in the sudden weather change. I stood outside in the very cold temperature with sleet and snow pelting my face only to discover Metro WAS running, but the buses were running quite late...this sudden weather pattern was a BLIZZARD by Seattle standards after all.

I did eventually make it home to my purring cat and warm house and continued to watch heavy sleet fall outside my windows. I even attempted to get my trash out to the curb for pick up tomorrow (because we ALL know *it* will most likely be melted off by then and the garbage trucks will not even notice the wet runoff *it* created)...but after slipping and sliding in my cozy house slippers (not the best choice of shoe cover in a snow storm, take my advice on this one) in the drive way, I finally abandoned the idea and returned to the safety of my warm interior dwelling.

After my brief experience in *it* this evening, I forgive you, Seattle Seahawks. I should not have expected you to play well in *it*...even IF you had cleated shoes and I don't...

Some Days It Doesn't Pay To Chew Off The Restraints...

I'm tired...vewee, vewee tired. This past week has been excruciatingly difficult for my body and my psyche as I have propelled my way through it...and only one more day shift to go before a few days off. Sometimes I wonder WHY I push myself so hard?...is there any purpose? Will someone somewhere be positively affected by something I say or do in my work? The sum total of my life/career MUST be more than the numbers on a paycheck...

Anne commented on the previous post, remarking "how" I am able to still go to work with MS. That comment got me thinking (which is always dangerous and often with poor result!)...but frankly, it's not a comment I haven't wondered about privately many times in the past five years without prompting.

I used to say I "don't have a choice" but to continue my employment, meaning I was my own, sole provider and SOMEONE should feel sorry for me...it's a fabulous martyr line and works wonders to steal the attention in a crowd of 12-step co-dependents, but it's not accurate. :) The fact of the matter is, we ALL have choices...and there's no reason for me to feel "bitter" or martyr-like because I CHOOSE to continue to work when I don't always FEEL like it. And I'm certainly NOT implying here that anyone with MS makes a CHOICE to stop working when they still "could" be gainfully employed if they only pushed themselves harder...that's crazy thinking, too. No one chooses their symptoms or disability that can come with Multiple Sclerosis and no one really CAN push themselves to do something their body simply is no longer able to do...it's not rocket science, but simple mechanics...if the body breaks down, it just doesn't WORK right anymore.

Right now, my body ISN'T "broken down" to the extent I am no longer able to successfully function in my line of work...hopefully my MIND also is functioning at proper capacity, too. LOL And you will never hear me bitch about the TYPE of work I do...oh sure, you definitely WILL read/hear me bitch about the hours, the meetings, the pay, and the politics/management of my job...that is the American way (and I AM a member of a Union, for gawd's sake!)...but you won't hear me complaining about the work itself. I enjoy my work...in fact, I truly LOVE my career.

Every day, I am challenged by the people I interact with in my job...whether it is the consumers I evaluate, other professionals, family members, or my own coworkers. The beauty of "crisis work" lends itself to constantly challenging my mind to problem-solve what sometimes seems an insurmountable issue...I am asked to not only problem-solve/make legal decisions, but to comfort, to empathize, to teach, to set limits, to process and think, to publicly speak, to be confident, to impart calm, to manage, to laugh, and to be present in the moment. I am asked to be the best "human" I can be, which is definitely a challenge sometimes when it might feel easier to be cold/uncaring or even inhumane...when extending myself feels too vulnerable, yet the "human" thing to do.

Every day (and I mean every day), I am reminded of Multiple Sclerosis, whether it knocks on my door via stiff/spastic calves that insist I stretch them out before trying to walk from my bed (lest I "swan dive" into the wall...been there, done that!) or constant, nagging pain in my left arm/shoulder. And, but for the grace of God go I, I still CAN walk from my bed and my pain level doesn't distract me to the point of removing my concentration...I am very fortunate and lucky in MS so far. The disease has not demanded I cease participating in a career that I love...I am very fortunate indeed.

So, when I am BITCHING here about Dawn's crack or demanding meetings or working too many days in a row, please know that underneath my crude manner is a person with MS who is thankful every day that the disease has not taken away something I hold near and dear to my heart...I'm talking about the work I do with others...the "others" who's disease of mental illness IS robbing them of their rightful good fortune.

And this is why and how I go to work each day...with MS...

So Busy I Misplaced My Cat...

Can YOU spot the cat in the photo? Yeah, probably you can...it's only ME who has been so busy I almost threw her out with the trash!

I've been running like a hamster on a wheel this past week with a hella hectic schedule...so far, I've managed to WORK 6 days in a row and I have two more to pack in under my belt before I will be able to collapse on a day off. And just to add insult to injury, I am in my every-seven-week-rotation of DAY SHIFTS! Anybody who knows me at ALL, understands how I feel about getting up to greet Dawn's ugly crack and going to work...sigh...

I truly hate it when work interferes with my life. After all, I AM working on my disability, too, and I resent work interfering with that. LOL Fortunately, my "disability" is in check right now for the most part...I am two weeks out from my Novantrone infusion and I am starting to get the "burst" I usually get...something I call my "Flight Into Wellness". I get about 8-10 weeks post Novantrone where I feel what I like to call *normal* again...my pain is lessened, my limbs seem to cooperate with my brain, I have more energy, my muscles in my lower legs seem to let go of their tight grip on my bones, my left side has a sensation of feeling stronger, and I generally have a better outlook on life with MS. The drug appears to be cooperating with me quite well.

I am still committed to my beginning of the year intake plan...I have been limiting my caloric intake as well as trying to exercise for at least 30 minutes a day when I can. Another MAJOR downer of working the dayshift is, I get up when it's dark, I work for 9 1/2 - 10 hours, I sneak in a half hour to an hour of exercise, and I return home to GET READY FOR WORK AGAIN! I really don't know how or why anyone would WANT to work the majority of their hours during the day...but I guess there is that benefit of spending time with your children, having a social life, etc (really NOT worth it to me since I HAVE no children or "social life").

I have been coming home from the county gym after a looooong day exhausted, hungry, dealing with a needy cat, and falling into bed to try to recover...consequently, I have NOT been lending my share of attention to my favorite blogs OR jotting anything down here. I hope y'all can forgive me? I am gritting and grinding my teeth just to get through what I am REQUIRED to do right now, but I have missed my leisurely reading of your blogs.

After Monday, life *should* return to a more copacetic pace and I will get back to the things I enjoy...either that or, I will simply die at my desk and no one at work will notice until I begin to smell. Of course, some of my coworkers ALREADY think I smell, so it might be a very long, long time before I am discovered without a pulse...

HIPAA 101 For The Unhip...

Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act...HIPAA. It's not just a good idea, IT'S THE LAW since April 14, 2003.

Hey, Dr. P.? How 'bout looking into what you can and can't legally say about your alleged "celebrity clients" (who am I kidding? I'm talking about Britney Spears) outside the confines and sanctity of a therapy session (and I use the term "therapy session" not only loosely, but with bile rising in my throat)? No wonder B.S.'s family (yes, I DID use those initials!) is crying foul about you blabbing information to the entire world regarding your "therapeutic" visit to dear Brit's bedside while she awaited a judge to release her from her 5150 hold in California, aka, COMMITMENT, LOCK UP, DETENTION, MENTAL HEALTH HOLD.

Last I was told, not only could I personally be billed a lump sum of 25 grand by the federal government for EACH HIPAA violation I am involved in, but so could the agency for which I am employed. Of course, I don't have my own TV show gifted to me by the all powerful OPRAH, but still. If the Feds are interested in lil' ol' me, surely they have their eye on YOU, too?...

CHA CHING...I hear the sound of lawyers jockeying for position over who will get to handle THIS lawsuit...

Too Bizarre Even For Me...

I've seen a lot and I've heard a lot in my 43 years...I've sat and listened to delusional thoughts, paranoid thoughts, grandiose thoughts, homicidal thoughts, suicidal thoughts, depressed thinking, manic thinking, sociopathic thinking, and occasionally what we deem "normal" thinking in my career in the mental health field. I've witnessed the aftermath of people doing unthinkable things to themselves in bizarre suicide attempts. I've been a witness for the prosecution in a murder case where a man was brutally stabbed to death and died beneath my hands as I attempted to contain his blood loss. I've stopped for car accidents and transitioned more than my share of souls to their heaven or unknown as they have passed in my presence. I've grown accustomed to the "abnormal" of this society...to violence and to death...and, by and large, THIS has become my norm for the world.

But this story coming out of Tyler, Texas, is even too bizarre for me to wrap my head around... http://www.komotv.com/news/national/13489727.html

Somebody Call The Health Department...

It's official...I think I've finally become a "hoarder" and will require the Health Department to do what's known as a Dig Out! (And no, that picture is NOT of my stuff...LOL...really)

I just finished toting the last of my precious belongings (I say with tongue in cheek) from the rented storage unit into my newly constructed storage addition at my home...an addition I have been patiently waiting almost a year to see completed.

I have been living in my current home for about 2 1/2 years while renting a storage unit at a local business (aka, being charged an arm and a leg to put a roof over CRAP!). When I moved from the previous rental home in 2005, I was overwhelmed with details of buying a home/moving/MS/hot weather, and basically just became tired of the process...this led to throwing "stuff" in boxes rather than SORTING and decided what I should take with me, what should be donated, OR what should be sent to the local landfill. And for 2 1/2 years, I have been storing some "interesting" stuff for no apparent reason...at least that's what I've discovered today.

After many car trips back and forth in rain-mixed-with-snow weather, ALL of my "interesting" stuff is finally under one roof. The only problem is, I'm pretty sure after 2 1/2 years of NEVER opening some of the boxes, there's less in storage that is "interesting" and more out there that could have just been routed to the local landfill! My usual motto is, if I haven't used it in over a year, I'm probably not going to...I'm not sure why THIS stuff has drawn a motto immunity card.

My next dreaded task IS to sort through the "stuff" AND get rid of some or most of it...frankly, it's just taking up too much room and obviously has not been THAT important to me. I did try to glance through some of the boxes/clear containers to get a feel for what might be in them...when I came across the machete, I nearly wet myself. I know WHY I have used this tool in the past, but it is highly doubtful a 43 year old MS fat lady is going to be whacking down brush in the near future! I think this is something I can definitely get rid of now. And the airless Wilson basketball (who's rubber innards are probably degraded by now) can probably go, too...doubtful I'll be playing any "pick up" games with the local neighborhood gang any time in the near future...hehe...

I guess looking on the bright side of things, at least I'm not hoarding CATS...I've been in some little old lady cat hoarder homes and that is enough to keep me down to one feline! And my living quarters ARE relatively a "hoard-free" zone, so this is good.

Say, anybody need a box of plaster casting material for MAKING plaster casts that go around limbs? Ah, DON'T ASK!...

It Was A Nail Biter...

Seahawks football causes me too much stress...I think next year, I am either going to have to pick a team that is really, really, good or one that sux soooo bad there's just no drama to the exhibition at all!

As promised yesterday, here is the Seahawks post which, by the way, we DID win against the Washington Redskins...but not until late in the fourth quarter. Now it's onward to Greenbay...the originating town/team of the Seahawks coach and quarterback (look out Joyce, the "hawks" could end up playing your "pats" one day!).

So, to get the football portion of this post out of the way, the Seahawks were ahead 13-0 in the first half...then the 3rd quarter came and the "Skins" made a daring comeback. The game became a 14-13 event and it was looking like the "hawks" were going down. In the 4th quarter, the "Skins" choked and the "hawks" pulled ahead, finally winning the match by a 35-14 margin.

There...football out of the way. The best part of the game was being invited to view the event at my friend, Lil' Al's (formerly known as Big Al, but weight loss has caused a change in name). Al has recently acquired a new, high tech, HD LCD TV...a BIG screen. It's not one of those thousands of dollars monstrosities that take up an entire wall of a room, but it is far bigger than anything I've ever watched a game on...I don't even have CABLE, for gawd's sake. LOL

I was amazed by the technology of TIVO and high definition...the picture of these new fangled machines is so crystal clear, I could practically count the nose hairs dangling from Paul Allen's nares (the owner of the Seahawks and previous cohort of Bill Gates). It was as if I was sitting "live" at the game. Well, almost...there were NOT any drunks spilling beer down my back side and the temperature in MY stadium was a snuggly 70 degrees! Oh, and I didn't have to yell at any stoopid fans for standing in my line of sight on the stairs while watching the game. Hmmm...I think it may have been even BETTER than a live game at Qwest Field.

Al and his wife are great fun people...old school...the kind of folks you think about when watching "A Christmas Story". They are always inviting, pleasant, funny, and engaging. We had a game "spread" of enchilada's, refried beans, salad, and drinks...as well as the usual football food of chips/dip/pretzels. It was a most excellent afternoon...the only draw back in the situation is, I missed my afternoon nap(s) and now it is too late in the early evening to even think about stealing a nap OR going to bed early...sigh...

On a slightly different slant to my day, the P.O.D. has bounced back from "whatever" gripped her stomach last night, causing her to spew like Mt. Vesuvius...she has returned to her ever-plotting-world-domination self and is once again sitting at my side by the computer memorizing my passwords. If I ever DO come up missing, check the CAT first! She'll definitely know something...

I was also ever so delighted this morning to discover during my weigh in (which really translates to standing on the scale after I urinate first thing in the morning...TMI?!?) that yet another pound has evaporated from my flesh, bringing me to a total of 8 gone...in 6 days. After the game event today, I most likely shouldn't eat for about a week to make up the difference in calories...and I only have about 8 thousand more to lose to get me back to a reasonable weight! There IS hope on the horizon...of course, I probably lost a pound or so BITING MY NAILS OFF DURING THE GAME, so maybe it will all even out...

Fierce Winds And Furballs...

Yep, another windstorm is blowing through Puget Sound...just in time for the Seahawks first playoff game tomorrow at 1:30PM. I guess we will at least have SOMETHING to blame it on if we lose to the Redskins.

I'm walking around the hut carrying a heavy Mag flashlight...just in case. Nothing worse than being caught in the dark and unable to stumble my way to the cabinet where I usually store the darned thing. I know I'm only tempting the gods by sitting here with my computer blazing into the night...about the time I end this post, I imagine the lights will just go out...before I have time to PUBLISH it to Blogger!

Not much happening in my world today...I continue to recover from my Novantrone infusion one week ago. Mostly recovery at this juncture is really SLEEPING a lot...and for someone who is not accustomed to taking naps, I feel like sleeping is all I am getting done during even the daylight hours. That, and huffing and puffing with the slightest exertion...another short-lived side effect of Novantrone. I have rationalized in my "scientific mind" that this is due to having less blood cells circulating around my body (Novantrone lowers all the blood counts), and therefore, not having enough red blood cells to carry oxygen to my nether regions...either that or, I'm simply fat and old. ;)

The P.O.D. (Princess O' Darkness), aka, my cat, took ill this evening and proceeded to hurl up everything she has ever eaten in her two, short years of life...actually, I think it was just her supper, but it seemed like BUCKETS. She's resting quietly right now on the couch and appears to be returning to her usual varmint self, chasing my feet and attempting to make me tumble. I'll have to monitor her for more signs of illness, but I suspect she just ate too much too fast tonight.

And speaking of eating too much too fast...I'm NOT! My water fast I did on Sunday/Monday jump started me onto a path of "mindful eating". I have been carefully paying attention to my intake and WHAT I am taking in for the past 5 days...and I'm gleeful to report, I have lost 7 pounds. I suppose it helps to be SLEEPING most of a 24 hour period, but I say, "WHATEVER WORKS"! The real test of trial will be when I return to work on Monday...back to a chaotic schedule with no naps...sigh.

I do believe the change in my intake/what I am taking in may also be relieving some of my muscular pain issues as even this has lessened...or literally NO STRESS and SLEEPING a lot has. Hard to tell which is the culprit of relief. I don't really care that much...I'm just glad I am able to lay down without feeling contorted again...or like the band around my torso is going to squeeze my guts out. Not a pleasant feeling to say the least.

If the wind doesn't blow Dorothy's Hut away tonight, I'll be sure and post something tomorrow about the Seahawks game...THAT should be almost as riveting as my cat throwing up...or the New Hampshire primary!...

Caucus or Caca?...

Call me unpatriotic (gawd knows the NSA probably already has and lists me on their "no fly" records), but is anyone else SICK of hearing about Iowa? I know I am...so all I can say is, "Thank God the Caucus is over!"

I was born in the Midwest and believe me, all of the land in the central U.S. of A. pretty much looks the same...but the people are NOT the same as the rest of us big city dwellers hugging the coast lines of the continental United States. There is very little racial diversity (except in a few crowded cities), little racial/ethnic/sexual preference/religious tolerance and the majority of the populations are "God-fearing" Christians...just ask someone who lives there...ON A FARM...not someone from the inner city of Chicago (which is NOT Iowa, by the way, for anyone confused about my demographic tirade...LOL).

The projected population of Iowa in 2006 was 2,982,085. Caucasians made up about 94% of that population, yet the USA census for that year of minorities living in the USA was over 1 million...it seems folks of color don't "migrate" to Iowa all that often. Of that 2,982,085 projected population of Iowa, roughly 1.7 million live in urban areas while the other 1.2 million live in rural Iowa...in the USA as a whole, about 71% of the population lives in urban areas while only 21% live the rural life. And I doubt very much the prevalence of Multiple Sclerosis is all that high in Iowa either, but I don't have any comparison facts/figures to share...it's just an opinion!

So why do we care what happens in the Iowa Causcuses? You got me on this one...I've been searching and searching all day (in between Novantrone naps) for a reasonable answer to this question. Sure, we could say it's the "kickoff" of the beginning run for the national parties candidate nominations. I'd even go so far as to say it's a "test" site for candidates to practice their presentations. But Iowa? Please...the best thing that's ever come out of this state is BEEF and great chorus lines for the musical, "The Music Man". (Seriously...if you are from Iowa I beg your forgiveness!)

The news said the temperature in Iowa spiked today to 29 degrees...it's colder than a well-digger's arse in Iowa. Farmers are sitting around the local coffee shops with little to do, but stare at the frozen ground and anticipate Spring in Iowa. Everyone is sporting traction tires or chains this time of year in Iowa. High School basketball teams are making their way toward the State championship games in Iowa. Snow is being HAND SHOVELED in Iowa as I type. Tables are being set for "supper" in the evening, not dinner. Folks have just worked 8-10 hours today and are basically thankful to have a job. Fireplaces are burning as a main source of heat tonight in Iowa while kids prepare their homework for another day of class in their rural community school. A love and respect for farm life as well as hope for a better tomorrow is rising in Iowa...

These are the things I would RATHER hear about coming from Iowa today...not the speechs of HuckaRompson or Obaclintwards. They are NOT Iowans (or is it Iowa-ites?), but the candidates DO want their votes. I just wonder if any of these candidates, IF elected to the office of President of the United States, will remember IOWA when the next major drought, tornado, or infestation blows through the state? Probably not...

What Does THIS Have To Do With MS?...Nothing...

(Please ignore my dark humor in the picture of a "Cereal Killer" above)

I have been reading a most excellent book entitled, "Gift Of Fear", by Gavin de Becker. It is a book written by a profiler/consultant, who has worked for many government agencies, celebrities, etc., and it tackles the sometimes "poo-poo'd" natural intuition we ALL possess when confronted with violence/danger. If you are "in to" this type of topic, I highly recommend it.

As some of you know from reading past posts, I not only work in the field of psychiatry/law, but I am also a trainer in defensive tactics when confronted with violence. I have attended many seminars and training programs in my 21+ years of working in the psych field and have taught several courses at various agencies I have worked in. I'm a fat, middle-aged, MS-afflicted female at this juncture in my life, but I remain confident if confronted with violence, I will stay safe...maybe a bit "bruised" psychically and perhaps even physically, but I will stay safe. This is because of my years of BEING confronted with potential and actual violence in my work...and, recognizing my gift of intuition...something I also believe we ALL possess.

Over the past month, there have been multiple murders, police shootings, and random killings in my fair city...far more than I think I have ever seen here in a 30 day period. It concerns me deeply that violence has become such a known issue on my local 6 o'clock news. After all, these type of things happen in the "big" cities...not little, calm-and-quiet Seattle.

But Seattle, like any expanding population of people stacked on top of one another, is not immuned to violence. And chances are, we have ALL been affected by violence in some form or another in our lives...either as a first hand witness, knowing a victim, or gawd forbid, knowing a perpetrator and/or being a victim ourselves.

On Christmas Eve, I was riding my usual bus from work to home. The streets were empty of the typical travelers that generally line the bus stops and side walks at 7:00PM. And, as is typical for me, I was standing alone at my bus stop waiting in the cold for a very late bus, when a young male in his early 20's approached me (it is an often talked about theory that those of us who work in the psych field are MAGNETS for the imbalanced!). There was something about his aimless walking and vacant eyes that caused me concern, which I immediately recognized as a typical "disturbed" face...he was either high on something or mentally ill.

He approached me and began talking while eating a piece of pizza. His first line out of his mouth was, "Asians are going to kill all of the white people." He said this with strong conviction, disregarding the fact he, himself, was Caucasian. I relaxed somewhat, recognizing the tell-tale signs of mental illness...after all, I'm trained in this field...and decided my best approach was to simply "uh huh" and "really?" him until my bus arrived.

But as I stood there in the cold with this young man rambling sometimes incoherently, I began to get an uneasy feeling...something I call the "hackles"...that sensation of the hair standing up on the back of the neck in response to something alarming in my environment. THIS was my intuition talking to me...giving me the not so subtle signal of fear.

It wasn't so much the content of the young man's ramblings as it was his intense focus on me. He would not leave and would not stop talking. I realized I was growing more and more uncomfortable with his presence and took a very on guard defensive stance, both mentally and physically. I made sure my cell phone was on and powered up and I positioned my keys between my knuckles in case I might need to use them as a weapon. At one point, he rambled something about needing to "take you into custody" just as my bus pulled up to the stop. I boarded the bus and hoped he was too disorganized to follow.

Unfortunately, right on my heels he followed and sat down beside me...he continued to ramble. I realized he had become fixated on me and the likelihood he "could" just disengage was not strong...his obvious mental illness kept him focused. I continued to have the "hackles" feeling and realized I was going to need to take action to prevent possible violence...my intuition was telling me the situation was not one I could easily shake off or talk my way out of.

At the next major stop (a hospital where my agency has a satellite office and is very well-known to me), I waited until all of the passengers had exited and entered the bus...and, just as the bus driver was readying to close the doors, I jumped up and got off the bus. The young man could not have anticipated my escape and was left peering out at me as the bus pulled away. I did have to wait another 30 minutes for the next connection home, but I didn't mind. "Something" told me to do what I had done and it was for all the right reasons.

I don't actually know if this young man WAS dangerous. He WAS mentally ill, this is certain. And I am not one who is typically fearful of the mentally ill...as I've said repeatedly in other posts, less than 3% of all violent crimes are committed by the M.I. population. Most mentally ill, if reacting with violence, are generally doing so out of their own fear...they are typically more fearful of me than I am of them. Hallucinations or delusions of false reality create fear and, at times, the person reacts to this.

And I can't possibly predict what MIGHT have happened had I stayed on the bus...I know I was concerned about getting off at the near end of the line where I live and possibly having this young man follow me in a residential neighborhood home. But something...my intuition...COMPELLED me to get off the bus when I did, avoiding all possible predictions or outcomes that "could" have occurred.

Did I over react? No. My mind was sending me signals (as were my other senses, too) to ACT...to avoid conflict/violence...and I heeded the warning.

Mr. de Becker talks in his book about intuition ALWAYS being 100% accurate...how we process that intuition or rationalize it may be faulty, causing over reaction, but the intuition itself is pure and serves as a warning signal that should not be overlooked. There IS such a thing as healthy paranoia. LOL

As each of us goes through our day, I encourage everyone to begin to listen to your intuition if you are not doing so already. It may seem trivial or "silly", but it could spare you a world of heartache or even your life. We DO all have our answers inside...sometimes hidden or even buried under years of denial or pain...but our answers are there. All we are being asked to do is listen.

If we become less likely victims and empowered individuals, perhaps perpetrators of violence will have a smaller arena to work within...this is my hope for all of us in 2008...

Does This Chair Make My A$$ Look Big?...

OK, that picture is not really one taken of MY ever-expanding back side, but it "could" be...if I continue on the road of inertia and increased calories! As I once told a good friend of mine (a few years after being diagnosed with MS and packing on the steroid pounds), "If I keep this up, you're going to insist I get a motorized wheel chair because I'll be too heavy to push around." She didn't blink nor did she provide me some limited self-esteem by DENYING my statement was true...sigh. Truth only hurts if...well...it's TRUE.

Sadly, after my road to wellness this past summer and being able to increase my exercise while cutting back on my intake (and actually LOSING 15 pounds), I was hit broad side (pun so very much intended) with a relapse that provided me 11 doses of Solumedrol followed by Prednisone 3 times in just over a month. Needless to say, what took me over 3 months to lose (and gain back in strength), was quickly replaced with 15 mysterious pounds recurring in places it hadn't come off of and a substantial decrease in my stamina and strength. Adding on top of that, the holiday season coupled with simply not FEELING well for several weeks, and I have become what feels like an inert bubble of flesh...and I'm not "happy" with this turn of events.

I suppose this is what spurred me onward Sunday to begin a water fast...not the New Year...a generalized discontent with my physical presentation, which I had been feeling for most of the month of December. And, since I am off work this week due to Novantrone last Friday (and already feeling nauseated!), I decided now was as good a time as any to try and disrupt the dysfunctional cycle I have been spiraling around for many weeks.

Food and the ritual of eating is a very insidious "habit" for me...one that I do not always make myself consciously aware of. I have found in the past that the most productive way for me to interrupt this habit is to literally CEASE eating...to become mindful again of the sensation of hunger...and to reset my body's demands. I have to assume a *spiritual* approach to my eating/hunger as a means of becoming aware of the behavior.

From Sunday evening until midnight last night (yes...New Year's Eve...sigh) I consumed only water...large quantities of H20. I allowed my stomach\intestines to rest and empty while attempting to experience the same effect with my mind. Believe me, this process never HAS been an easy one for me and those 24+ hours were no exception. It is much easier to distract myself with food...it somehow feels "safer" to eat. I expend a great deal of mental energy convincing my mind (and body) I am not deprived (depraved maybe, but certainly NOT deprived), that I am in fact "safe", and there is great wisdom to be found in a mind and body that is clear.

I consequently discovered a few new insights...some within myself and some without. One of the most disturbing insights I stumbled upon "without" was just how many FOOD COMMERCIALS are on TV in any given hour! My God...if we Americans are consuming the amount of food shown on television commercials, it is no wonder obesity is one of the leading causes and complications of death in this country. And even commercials that were about DRUGS (and believe me, there are almost as many pharmaceutical commercials on as there are food commercials...but that's an entirely DIFFERENT post) had food in them. Foods that were high in cholesterol, foods low in cholesterol, fast food commercials, grocery store products...the list was ginormous matching only the ginormous a$$e$ of many in America. And I, unfortunately, have fallen into that category.

I have set a goal (not a New Year's Resolution) to return to my summer plan of wellness...after all, it DID work for me. I felt better physically and felt better about myself. Weight is a secondary issue because, even if I weighed 90 pounds, if I didn't feel good physically and mentally about myself, the pounds (or lack of) would mean nothing.

So this is where I am heading into the New Year...to gain some strength back and to feel semi-normal again. I will always have Multiple Sclerosis, but there are many activities I CAN do that are not limited by my MS. And MS certainly does NOT force me to lift a fork full of fries to my mouth whenever I want to feel "full" or "fulfilled".

It's all just food for thought...argh argh...