I am not a political individual. I do not analyze newspaper persuasion nor do I enjoy any type of debate. I did follow Bill Clinton's process mainly because he felt more my age; therefore, he represented, to me, the ideals that my circle of friends encompassed. I also thought Ross Perot (spelling?) was fun, but I knew enough to not take him too seriously.
Election 2016 has been entertaining from the start and because of it's volatile persona, I made the decision to become actively involved in the outcome.
As a Democrat, I surprisingly found myself early on really wanting to like The Donald. His arguments made sense. He spoke a cut and dry language that I much appreciated. It didn't hurt that, just because I like Bill, I really cannot stand Hillary Clinton. Call it intuition, call it jealousy(?), call it whatever you wish. I just do NOT like her. I like Chelsea. I like Bill. I even feel badly for Monica...
But Hillary reminds me too much of the condescending mean girl in junior high school.
So, now, after the first official debate between Donald and Hillary, I am thrown back to a extremely indecisive existence. If it weren't for my age and educational background, I would so seriously be tempted to throw in the towel and not care. But, I DO care. I care so much that I, probably like thousands of Americans, am terrified for the future of our country.
My impressions of Monday night's debate:
1. Hillary is far too smug. She is not and never will be someone I desire to call friend.
2. Donald can accuse his opponent of lying all he wants, but he had better look at the pot and kettle reality that he is not above that shortcoming. He is obviously delusional. The entire world heard him respond to the accusation of not paying taxes. "Smart," he plainly said. He can't take that back. I know he said it. He knows he said it. The whole world knows he said it. It is irrelevant what he
supposedly meant. That's what he said.
3. I don't care about Hillary's e-mail scandal. The public needs to get over it and move on to more important issues: education, terrorist control, health insurance, taxation among the social classes...And quit grinning like a fool, Hillary. Your tactics are plainly transparent, but your smug-bitch face is demeaning not only to your opponent, but to your perspective followers as well.
Unfortunately, there is NO ONE who deserves my vote. I realize that this po-dunk West Virginian will not sway the election margin at all, but as an American citizen I feel that I deserve the right to a worthy candidate for the most important position in our government. It is too bad that Mitt Romney elected not to run this year. At least his credentials as a family man of moral character would be difficult to dispute. And his wife has a bird's eye view on living with an incurable disease. (Yes, Ann Romney has MS, in case you didn't know.) Guess that's why he made the very wise choice not to be involved in this mockery of an election year.
No, I am NOT a political person. What I am is an offended American citizen. I do not believe either of the two presidential candidates.
As I tell my teenage son quite often, "There are many difficult decisions in life we must make." This, by far, is the most difficult one I have faced in a long, long time.
I suppose that no matter the end result, the next four years will be spent with me looking over my shoulder at all times.
That is all,
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2016
This has been quite an interesting day.
It all began last night.
No matter how tired I am at the end of the day, I always read a chapter or three in my bed before turning off the light and curling around my pillow. Last night was no different. Except...
As I turned (my body) to switch off the bed side lamp, I was assaulted by a 21-gun salute of a pain that streaked up the entire left side of my body. I fought to remain calm when I could not lift my left arm and my fingers tingled to numbness.
My first thought was exactly what just came to your mind.
Unfortunately my family has a history of heart conditions. So far I have escaped the inevitable, because, you know, I'm only...
Crap, old enough to take a spot in the heart attack line of the familial. How did I get this old?
Instead of going into instant panic mode (Hey, I have MS. If I gave into every single little, or big, physical ailment, I would be a total basket case. No time for that!) I eased back on to my pillow, took a few cleansing breaths, and tested my neck and shoulder with some gentle stretches.
My chest did NOT hurt. My breath was normal. My pulse seemed steady.
But the range of motion in my left arm was null and void. And PAINFUL!
Following several shifts in sleeping position, I finally found a relatively comfortable arrangement and concentrated on sleep. I prayed that this was not my time and asked the Man Upstairs to watch over me. What more could I do?
As it turns out...nothing.
I awoke to ZZ Topp on my radio alarm and felt fine...until I rolled out of bed. Yep, the pain was still there and, if possible, even more intense.
Preparing my son's breakfast with one arm and trying not to grimace in pain (didn't work), I announced that I wold be leaving for the emergency room as soon as son and husband departed for school and work. Of course, the panic set in immediately. For them.
I hate to worry people. That's why I work hard on keeping the tears to myself and pains on the down low. Even though MS is famous for affecting everyone associated with the one with the actual disease, I do my best to take sole ownership of this intruder.
Through tears, I assured husband that I could drive myself and tried to hide any insecurities from my son with an extra waffle. (I know he was worried about ol' mom and it just wasn't fair for him to meet his Monday with this on his mind.)
With only one thing on my mind, I donned yesterday's jeans, splashed my face with water, and brushed my teeth. Fairmont Regional Hospital is only four miles away, but the closer I got the distance grew longer.
Because of the early hour I had the place to myself, which meant that all attention was focused on me. After my detailed complaint, that attention visibly concreted into Go Mode and the ER came to life with energy. In the back of my mind I realized that they, too, shared my thinking.
Blood work, EKG, pulse, even a CT scan of my neck and spine...all negative. All clear. I was the vision of health. Even if I was in severe pain. And I had a secondary concern. My morning dose of Ampyra was in my front jeans pocket and I could not reach it with the IV n my right hand and non-responsive left arm. I asked the nurse if she would dig deep for me and explained what and why I needed to take this pill. She absolutely refused and told me that I could NOT take anything until I was released. I tried to explain the importance of maintaining a strict schedule for this 12-hour released wonder drug, but she would have nothing to do with it.
Well, she was NOT going to ruin my Ampyra experience for me. Even if this was my last day on earth, I would not be denied this opportunity to bleed Ampyra for any and every ounce of improvement it was having on my body.
When I was clearly alone in the hall way outside the CT room, I stood unsteadily and cautiously worked that pill up against the deep leg pocket of my worn Levi's. of course it popped to the ground, making me cringe at the unseen terrors that lurked on that very public floor. I looked cautiously from side to side for a witness. Finding none, as quickly as I could, I reached for my horse pill and popped it in my mouth. Like a deranged addict I collected enough saliva in my to ease the pill down my throat.
I didn't see Nurse Cratchet again (That's not fair. She was just doing her job. But she was too young and inexperienced to undermine the likes of my MonSter.) until my release, but I noticed she looked at my sideways in case I showed signs of with draw. Because I just KNEW she hadn't believed my time-release explanation of aid unseen pill in my pocket.
I was delivered back to my cot after the CT and my IV became infused with a delicious assortment of fluids and drugs, so the remainder of my stay in bed three of the ER was spent making up for the sleep denied me last night.
I felt so sorry for the invisible lady in the curtain enclosed bed next to me. She was in absolute agony. I wanted to share my brand of narcotics with her, but my relaxed state wouldn't even allow the words to exit my mouth. I did, however visit her before leaving. Lovely lady. Obviously not receiving the narcotic cocktail served me. Shame. Hope she feels better soon. As for me, I'm gong home.
The pain had eased considerably and my prescriptions awaited me at a local pharmacy.
Diagnosis: Pinched Nerve
I am still shocked that I was allowed to drive myself home. I had escaped the "trips" of high school and college drug experimentation, so I could document this psychedelic journey a "first" and a definite "last". Wow.
That was my Monday. And that was the reason for my absence for my Monday blog posting. Sorry I missed you. Let's just refer to this as research.
Jodi, I will check out that knitting pattern today. I apologize for not telling you about this yesterday, but the lines on my text reply were a bit squiggly:)
One BIG thing that came out of my weird Monday, is an odd public reaction to MS. We are wrought with dozens of cautions, suggestions, criticisms, self-cures, sure-fire diets, and mind-boggling treatments, but never have I been accused of wrongly identifying MS as a physical ailment. My ER physician yesterday did just that. Although Dr. P was well-versed on bed side manner and did her best to impress me with a knowledge of multiple sclerosis, she obviously was not a scholar on the topic. During her last bed side visit, she assured me that my situation was not a result of MS and she implied that I wrongly not attach physical ailments to my disease. As if I dishonored the prestige of multiple sclerosis by assigning my current pain to the power of MS. I cannot condemn Dr. P as a medical professional. She is an ER doctor, not a neurologist. She just doesn't know. No one truly does, but in a case such as mine, I urge the medical world to pay heed to the experts. You and Me. We are the MonSter slayers. MSers pay more attention to their bodies than world-class athletes. We know more about our "parts" than anyone, even our neurologists.
So, thank you for your assistance, Dr. P., and for your time n the ER. I feel much better and VERY relieved to know that this isn't a heart issue. I already knew it had nothing to do with MS. I'm just sad to miss my morning yoga class today. Just don't want to push the trigger on my new companion Pinched Nerve.
Really? A pinched nerve? From turning off my reading light?
Oh, yeah, I am older than I want to believe.
I will talk to you later.
Have a good one!
Friday, September 16, 2016
WILLIAMS made the following statement::
Unfortunately the way MS affects me the most is through neuralgic pain that I have in my lower extremities, meaning from my knees to the bottom of my feet, on both sides. It's 24 hours a day, and as I describe in my book, at one point it was so bad that it almost prompted me to try to take my life, twice. That was in the midst of what I know now was my last episode or bout. A couple of my other symptoms are slight left-side weakness, especially in my left leg. I also have very, very marginal balance issues. Those are my three main symptoms.
Maybe, when I actually learn how, I will knit a pair of cozy socks for Mr. Williams. Everyone, even feet, need a hug. What better hug could there be than the feel of soft, argyle wrapped around you?
(But, don't get too anxious, Montel. My current knitting project is still in a questionable state. I really do not see sock knitting in my immediate future.)
Fortunately foot pain has not been an issue with me and my MS. Foot Control, yes, but any pain in those lower digits I usually chock up to muscular neglect.
My interest in yoga lead me to the discovery of Yoga Toes. I purchased a pair of Yoga Toes sandals a few years ago and after wearing them for a little while, I can feel the obvious difference in my cramping toes. I cannot wear them for long periods of time, though, because too much exercise, I believe, is as bad for us as not enough. (See how the toes are separated? Feels so good for moderated time periods.)
Just One *Step* For Naturally Beautiful Feet
- When muscles are relaxed, circulation increases. Walk away feeling like you just had a foot massage. Remember: relaxed and healthy feet are beautiful feet.
- YogaToes® are fun, easy, and simple to use!
- YogaToes® do the work while you relax. All you do is put them on... it's an instant vacation!
YogaToes® Do 4 Things Very Well:
- Relax & restore toes.
- Stretch & tone the entire foot (with benefits extending to your knees, hips, and right up through your spine).
- Gently direct feet back to their optimum shape & function; accelerating recovery time for the whole body.
- Increase circulation to the feet, which feeds repair & removes waste (vitally important since feet are furthest away from the heart).
Read more: http://www.yogapro.com/products/YogaToes.html#ixzz4KQASeILi
I do not know why the feet are attacked as frequently as they are for folks with ms; but I do know it is real. Although neurological pain is not one of my major complaints, I do know the benefits of foot massage and toe stretching. Yoga has taught me so much about the importance of the smallest movement in improving our over all health. In Miss Terry's yoga class (Tuesdays and Thursdays at Fairmont Health Plex), we concentrate a lot on the feet. One of the most interesting and important things I have learned about foot care if that we should spend time with the pressure points in our feet on a daily basis. Using your thumbs, press into the pain until it passes...and it will.
No, this does not eliminate neurological discomfort, but it sure does feel good for a while.
How Does Something So Simple Do So Much? The patented ergonomic design of YogaToes® exercises every aspect of your toes: between, above, and beneath them. Stretching them apart from each other, away from the ball of the foot, AND down from the top of the foot. If you want to understand this effect, spread your fingers apart and out as far as you can. You can feel the goodness immediately! Weak muscles in your toes and mid-foot become flexible and strong again. Improving your whole foot’s posture & alignment. All of this increases circulation to the lower extremities. You know how good you feel after a foot massage. Now you can enjoy the same results any time you slip into a pair of Yoga Toes toe stretchers. Read more: http://www.yogapro.com/products/YogaToes.html#ixzz4KQDQpfkE
Of course, shoe shoe choice is important for anyone's well-being, but those of us battling the MonSter need to be especially cautious about what we lace on to our feet. I have learned this the hard way. With my Foot Drop (Yes, medical world, this is a REAL thing.), I know, without a doubt, that flip flops are not my friend.
In my book I Have MS. What's Your super Power? I further describe my issue with Foot Drop and , hopefully, offer some tips on how to live with this issue.
CHAPTER SEVEN: The Flop Drop
While researching my most annoying symptom of MS, I had to giggle when I found this most apt description of my malady. Flop Drop. That really does sum it up.
My foot literally “flops” when it is not in a communicative mood. It actually sounds rather disgusting, but it is such a more literal and accurate description of this common MS trait. I hate it when I am feeling particularly peppy, but my right foot decides to rebel, leaving me left behind in more ways than one. It is one horrible thing to feel my age when my mind is still programed to partake in all things young and active; but when my body just refuses to play the game because it cannot, I feel even more incapable of existing successfully in the human race.
Foot drop, or drop foot, is a common symptom of multiple sclerosis. It’s a difficulty in lifting the front part of the foot, which can make walking a challenge. People with this symptom tend to walk by lifting the knee as though they were walking up stairs. I discovered that I suffer from drop foot after a series of stumbling, lurching, frightening falls that left me totally unnerved and rather depressed, as well as thoroughly embarrassed by the reactions of my friends. Of course, they thought I was drunk. I was doing the perfect imitation of the wino down the street.
I realized that was not the case when I ended up in the emergency room with an ugly gash in my forehead and a shiny black eye, following an unexpected fall one evening that I do not even remember. The last thing I remember was that I turned from one person to reply to someone else behind me and, boom, I was on the ground. The corner of my eye was imbedded in the corner of a metal heat vent and I could not move my legs or arms to right myself. I do not know what happened. They do not know what happened.
I DO know and remember well that someone called my husband. The nightmare image of him standing across the room with my nine month old son in his arms, blatantly casting judgment over me and telling my friends to call an ambulance because I was in no condition for him to take to the hospital. My stomach twists still today as I remember my baby seeing his mother lying on the ground while his father mentally assured him that I was unfit and would most likely be removed from his life as soon as possible. (This is my former spouse.)
In my young adult novel Abby, the main character relays an incident in the grocery store parking lot when her mother (recently diagnosed with MS) is cited by an ignorant bystander as being drunk and totally irresponsible for involving her own children in her public display of inappropriateness. Abigail is appalled, embarrassed, and anxious that her mother overheard the offensive remarks.
I, too, worry about the reactions of other people when they see me stumble along a perfectly clear and level walk way. It is even worse when I am accompanied by own son, husband (current and forever spouse), or other innocent escort. It is one thing to belittle me; but I take total offense when people I care about have to suffer the shame of knowing me. It is not fair to them. They didn’t ask to be associated with such a derelict.
The up side of this, though, is the creation of such labels as the Flop Drop. I mean, really. How can one even say this without giggling? MS is not funny. There is nothing amusing about “flopping” around, but the best way to cope with MS is with some inside humor. Folks in “the know” understand our need for little inside jokes like this.
Just call me an over achiever, but I have experimented with a variety of drop foot eliminators; including one of those wire-controlled devices designed to eliminate drop foot through electronic stimulus. I think it is probably a wonderful tool for folks who can afford it or whose insurance recognizes it as a viable treatment for MSers. Mine, unfortunately, does not; but, I could diverse very quickly onto the topic of what the "real" world views as important.
We have all experienced this. Because we cannot understand MS and because it cannot be categorized in black and white terms as far as definition, then there is no true documentation to make it a "real" disease; so funding for this imaginary condition is not justified with the powers who hold the purse strings. Whoops!
Showing my cynical persona.
It's me. I'm back: Miss Positive.
I have discovered several alternatives to the expensive, manufactured suggestions. The problem with drop foot and properly fitting shoes seems to be with how the foot is positioned within the confines of the shoe. You can actually rig a small bungee cord attachment in the shoe that forces the front of the foot to lift at the appropriate time when taking a step.
This Flop Drop thingy sounds like an interesting and affordable idea. Sure, it's another money maker for some enthusiastic inventor, but some of mankind’s best ideas have evolved from unexpected activities. (Who would have thought that flying a kite would start this whole electricity fad?)
After closely analyzing this Flop Drop device, I think I understand the physics of it. At first, I thought that I could probably rig a similar doohicky (West Virginia slang for thingy; thingamajig; whatchamacallit), without the 'professional' accessorizing that I am certain this factory-made tool includes. As far as I can tell, the most important part of the Flop Drop tool is the tiny bungee cord that seems to control the entire process.
Because I am just not crafty enough to put something like this together, I try to remember to do some leg lifts while sitting on the couch. Walking in place for ten minutes or more often helps, as long as you concentrate on lifting the heel, which forces the front of the foot to elevate.
My favorite footwear needs to fit securely to the foot and not slip up and down on the heel. Clarks is my go-to brand, but can be pricey. I look for a bargain and when I find it, I wear the soles off my purchase. Flip flops just do not work for me and even the hint of a high heel is absolutely a no-go. I like boots in the fall and winter months and a comfy sneaker, securely laced, is good year ‘round.
Okay, quit snooping my closet. If you want to know more about flop drop, check out this website.
ttps://www.amazon.com/Have-Whats-Your-Super-Power (Try not to be blinded by the accumulating awards this book is receiving. It is becoming really shiny!)
I actually love feet...Not necessarily in the fetish sense, but I admire attractive feet. Well-pedicured feet make me happy. Admittedly, I am also prone to judge a person by their attention to their feet. Sorry...
Many foot issues cannot be helped or are not the fault of the foot owner. I understand and sincerely appreciate this, but I also know that we are responsible for being as attentive a possible to such details n appearance and health. Take care of those feet! Even when they fail to physically support us, they are an important body part.
Love them, lotion them, stretch them, massage them, give them good shoes, treat them to a new pair of comforting socks! (It is fast approaching official sock weather! Indulge!)
So, whether you plain to point those toes this weekend,
or plant those toes,
remember to stretch those feet,
Enjoy the weekend!
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
Please do not judge my theme choice for this weekly theme; because it definitely appears that a theme has developed. And, that's okay. I like socks.
In fact, when my gal pal and I started knitting last fall (Has it been nearly a year already?), I could not wait to dig my brand new bamboo knitting needles into a ball of colorful sock wool.Learning our purls and our knits required investing into the creation of four winter carves. The first project was totally in the knit stitch, which looked really cool when finished. This project too the longest of all of the scarf projects, but really looked "solid".
Next came the 100% Purl Scarf, which looked rather loopy what with the looser stitches.
And then...we got to mix it up and combine our knowledge of knit and purl. When a knitter elects to do this, she has taken on what is referred to as stockinette. I really enjoyed this challenge. Performing the stockinette made me feel like a real knitter and I loved the outcome.
Our final project required a more intricate combination of knits and purls, increases and decreases, etc. With my BFF flying through these projects, this one stumped me, grinding me to a halt. I realized that I might be in over my head and I needed to revisit some of the more simplistic knitting patterns. And knitting can be an expensive sport! When I looked around my living room, I was dumbfounded at the amount of argon, angora, wool, cotton piled high against walls, taking over the piano bench, and hiding from my yarn loving cat.
And the tools! I had collected one-pointed needles of various sizes, two sets of circular needles (that I have yet to try), two-pointed needles, stitch holders, stitch markers, gauge measuring tools, patterns, three knitting manuals, project bags, yarn bowls...oh, the list goes on and on. I am grateful that I learned to appreciate good ol' Walmart yarn instead of falling prey to the beautiful yarns of area llama farmers and wool traders. Talk about breaking the bank!
As winter neared, J and I began discussing possible Christmas gifts made from our own hands. But all we had thus far was an array of expensive scarves. No they were not made of Sweetheart yarn, because our knitting instructor insisted that we purchase yarn from her store in exchange for her expert instruction (plus a staggering class fee). We were becoming skeptical about this necessity and began exploring alternate knitting venues.
Still no socks, though.
While the scarves were a fun introduction to this awesome world of knitting, we craved something new.
And, lo and behold, J found our something new.
After an hour's drive I met my friend at the sweetest little knitting shop, located not far from my family's mountain retreat. I realized immediately that meeting here would need to be a well-planned event for me. Our former knitting hang-out required us both to travel about 25 minutes to meet at a geographical mid-point fro our respective homes. This lovely, storybook yarn shop is closer to her home than to mine, but the drive is well-worth the effort.
Sandy, the proprietor, is absolutely lovely, patient, kind and helpful. Her yarns are exquisite and her shop is a place I could easily curl up and live in. There are couches, tables, arm chairs, soft music playing, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee, and a back-in-time atmosphere that truly complements the purpose of our visit. Sandy even has two awesome kitty cats named...
Knit and Purl!
Oh, I knew that J had found our home away from home.
And we learned...oh, how we learned. At least J did. I'm still struggling with our first project attempt.
This easy, lightening fast (c'mon, fellow knitters, you know the lingo) pattern requires the use of four double pointed needles. Yep, you heard me. Four...double pointed...knitting needles.
J was jumping at the bit to get started. (She had already been studying ahead and felt much more confident than I.) After selecting our preferred yarns, we listened to Sandy give us preliminary directions and the followed her lead of her arranging our collection of bamboo. It was a struggle for sure.
J made it all the way to the completion of a thumb on her first mitten. By the time that we left Sandy (We were there almost four hours!), J was looking forward to completing mitten two before our next visit. L (that's me) was still struggling to get to the thumb's base.
Two weeks later we met again to complete our mittens.
As I type this, my glance falls on that beautiful autumnal ball of yarn under the piano bench and I make an earnest decision to finish that first mitten some time soon.
Going out on our own, J and I have finished several projects over the summer and explored the possibility of many more. Dish cloths, baby hats, baby blankets...I can check those all off my to-do list. She has also mastered the art of felting and has completed several pairs of house slippers. Right now we are both experiencing the frustration of multiple start overs on our respective shawl projects.
It's been a while since we visited Sandy together and with fall in the air, I know that J and I will have a reunion in the not too distant future.
Maybe this years we will knit socks.
Because I do love socks...
They offer that warming comfort much like that of a favorite of childhood teddy bear.
I love the argyles and the soft wools. I love the preppy tow and heal colors and the little border of an expensive boot sock. I love perusing the LL Bean catalog and finding un-affordable matching sweaters to coordinate with my sock collection. Yes, it is time to make my own pair of socks. And, I will indulge in the pricey yearn for this endeavor.
Of course, I realize that sock knitting is very similar to mitten knitting in that there are multiple needles involved and a need for multiple non-existent working hands.
But, that's okay. It is a challenge. Just like MS.
We do what we can and hope for the best. I have learned that we are only accountable to ourselves when it comes to the MonSter. It is our journey and often times the fewer participants, the better.
But there is help out there.
Through the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, I have been given the opportunity to organize a Marion County MS Self-help group. This is the first official group in this area since I was diagnosed in 2001. (Read more of my adventures in MS self-help, circa early RX in my book, I Have MS. What's Your Super Power?
http://headlinebooks.com/) My goal for this group is to provide a safe, uplifting, fun place for folks in my area to hook up and share their experiences. Maybe some one there will help me with my second mitten or even have advice on sock knitting!
I can use all the help I can get. We all can.
We meet the first Thursday of each month at 11:00 (AM, you silly thing!) at Life United Methodist Church near Mary Lou Retton Drive in Fairmont, WV.
I will do my best to make sure we have coffee and treats.
You make sure you join us.
Bring your knitting if you are so inclined!:)
Monday, September 12, 2016
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 2016
I hate to complain. And especially this close to the weekend.
But sometimes we just gotta do what we gotta do.
Recently I received a gift, a very lovely gift, that has assisted me in walking...many steps without the use of my cane. Every morning (or evening) I have taken a walk down the street, across the parking lot in town, and the followed the rails to trails back tome home.
It has been exhilarating, refreshing, exciting, and normal. Taking a walk is just an everyday, normal activity that most folks take for granted. Taking a walk, for me, is like the very best gift I could receive.
One foot in front of the other, knees lifting high, toes not dragging the ground. This doesn't happen very often. So, when it does, I forget about my companion the MonSter. Just for a while. Long enough to allow me to feel free. Long enough for me to get home and collapse on the couch.
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 2016Today that walk evidently wasn't on my MonSter's agenda. I instead stumbled to the bathroom just in time before considering any kind of physical activity. I felt useless, old, and totally pathetic.
I don't like that feeling.
Fortunately, I have developed a rather nauseating knack for brushing away the negative in favor of finding a counteractive positive. No, I don't bounce around like some steroid enhanced Barbie doll; but it is so much easier to find the "good" side of a situation than to wallow in a pool of negativity. That even sounds exhausting.
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2016
It's game day!
Just because I no longer attend WVU games, doesn't mean that I don't celebrate the event.
My family started the day with a lovely breakfast. I showered and dressed in blue and gold to commemorate the day. My husband, my brother, and their friend piled into the car with cooler on the back seat and I waved farewell.
The sun was already beating down through the haze of humidity.
I had made a very wise decision in staying away from the stadium today. The MonSter would NOT be sitting in section 132 today. We would share a seat in the comforts of my own home: ice water at my side, knitting close, and bathroom a stumble away.
I hurried back into the house and collapsed on the sofa, with right leg already stiffening up and my annoying head tremor making itself known.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 2016
I cringe when that date appears, but there is nothing to be done about it other than to rejoice in my own safety. That was a horrible day. A day with which even MS cannot compete.
I celebrated the only way I know how. I went to church.
Last evening I even took a short walk. The air exhibited a refreshing coolness and I noticed that my gait was much more relaxed. I even just held my walking stick warrior-like, rather than relying upon it for support.
MS is a fickle bitch. Heat, exhaustion, stress...all components of MS-related symptoms. We are not allowed to enjoy some of the simplest things in life because our bodies react so fiercely to the earth's elements and life's complications.
Well, guess what, MS?
On Saturday, I had the best seat in the house. I could say the same for Sunday. And today I plan to just enjoy another Monday.
My situation might be viewed as bad, bad, bad; but there is always some one else out there suffering as much if not more.
Have a great day.
POLITICAL QUESTION ALERT: Hillary Clinton nearly collapsed at a 9/11 event on Sunday. America has chosen it's two presidential candidates. If something horrible happens to one of those candidates that eliminates her/him from the race, is there only one representative running for the office?
Friday, September 2, 2016
Reader’s Favorite announces their 2016 Award Winners! Included are Chilly Billy by Melinda Chambers taking Gold for Best Children’s Book – Social Issues. Hopping to America by Diana Pishner Walker wins Honorable Mention and Corinne’s Fin, by Dayle Dabney also wins an Honorable Mention. Named Finalist are Mystery in the Window by Angie Whitlow Wilson for Best Children’s Book 4th-6th Grade and I Have MS: What’s Your Super Power by Lisa McCombs, Best Non-Fiction Self Help Book-- a heart-felt guide to living with MS.
It is here. Labor Day weekend.
With it brings a much anticipated result.
Readers Favorite book awards is something I am not a stranger to, and I say that with much pride. My first novel, Abby, won consecutive Honorable Mention and Fourth place awards for YA fiction. Raspberry Beret also received Honorable Mention. This year, I Have MS. What's Your Super Power? has taken the spotlight with status as a Finalist for best self-help nonfiction. And look at all of my fellow West Virginia Headline authors with awards decorating their work!
I couldn't ask for a better way the start the weekend; and yet, it only gets better.
Last evening the Marion County MS Self-help group met for the first time. I didn't really expect a big turn-out for the first meeting, but those who attended didn't disappoint. In fact, some light was shed on possible low attendance and I plan to make appropriate adjustments to accommodate (I love me some alliteration.) my fellow Warriors. When I initially thought about my vision for this group, my mind was still in the working class mode.
Well, guess what...The majority of individuals who are in need of this service are not or no longer working outside the home. So an evening hour is not the best of plans. Duh...
Next week I will be one the phone to NMSS, the director of our meeting place, the media, and all others participating in this activity in order to change our meeting time to an earlier hour.
We had a great conversation, though, and interest was generating in knowing more about alternative treatments for MS. I see essential oils playing a HUGE part in a future session.
And there is more...
Ina few hours I will be collecting my two youngest nieces for a much anticipated camping trip. The weather is going to be awesome, the company superb, and the campfire awaiting. I can't wait.
I hope you all have an exciting weekend planned. In my neck of the woods there are so many things from which to choose. I want to attend them all, but Bemis calls me so that is where I plan to park my behind.
I wish my author pal Diana Pisner Walker much luck at the Italian Heritage Festival. My heart might not be in the stands tomorrow, but my eyes will be glued to the TV screen as the WVU Mountaineers take the field for their 125th year of college football. The Jackson Mill Craft Fair is also happening this weekend and if you have never been, you are definitely missing out on a spectacular West Virginia treat.
This weekend is a celebration of many endings and beginnings. The pools close, Labor Unions picnic, high school football is in full swing, and families join for the next season chapter.
I can't wait.
I also cannot wait to share with you the cover of my new book. Bombs Bursting in Air is in the final publication stage and will be available soon! Maybe I can give you a little peek next week...