You had me at post-nasal drip!

You would think having a major neurological disorder would entitle you to a Get Out Of Jail Free card for other annoying stuff - like allergies, acid reflux, and teenage parenting stress!

But nooooooo . . . . That's not true. No passes for this chickie! Sometimes life just chips away at ya. But you have to keep a sense of humor. My husband Greg cracked me up last night. My allergies are in full swing. It was late and I went to join him in bed. He was reading his Kayaking magazine. I just finished my nightly shot. I was in my unconscious complaining mode: "Oh man, that shot hurt! Sting! Ouchie, Ouchie!" Whine, whine, whine. . . And then I started into "and these allergies are driving me nuts, at least the post-nasal drip which caused that tickle in my throat has let up. Boy that cough was annoying." With a handful of tissues I crawled into bed and continued "now it's going out the other way" as I blew my nose. My husband got a mischievous smile on his face, and said to me: "You had me at post-nasal drip." We both cracked up!

Boy, I'm grateful for a patient hubby who makes me laugh.

Raising Cane

Falling stinks! But, it's a regular occurrence for many of us with MS. In fact, a friend once said he was going to make T-shirts that read "I'm not drunk, I have MS." But falling in public, that stinks times a million.

Sunday, my youngest son and I went for lunch after church. I was all dressed up and I didn't think my cane was a good accessory to my snazzy outfit. So, I left it in the car. It wasn't that far and Ben could help me. After lunch Ben went to pay our bill and I slowly got up. I slung my purse over my right shoulder and carried my handy dandy iphone in my left hand. I walked very slowly because limping didn't gel with the look I was going for. Maybe if I walked slowly enough, no one would even notice. Each step felt like a cinder block was tied to my right foot. And then it happened. The cinder block won over my attempt at grace. My right foot did not lift up when I thought it did and I felt myself begin to fall. My first thought was "oh @#$%!" My second thought was thank God I have this Otter case on my iphone. My third thought was how to land with the least amount of damage.

Ker-plunk! It wasn't pretty. There I was, spread out across the floor. Maybe no one noticed. Ha! If I could have jumped up and run out I would have. Two or three waitresses and a kind woman across the way came running to my rescue: "are you okay, are you okay?" With a bashful shrug of my shoulders and a quiet "Yes, yes, I fall quite often" I began to situate myself. These nice people were asking "What can we do?" I sat on the cement floor with my right, helpless, limp leg sitting off to the side, mocking me. My right foot shoeless and pointing in the direction it chose. "It would be very nice if you could put my shoe on my foot." Someone did. Then two or three people pulled me up off the floor. One sweet waitress smiled and said to me "don't worry, I fall all the time."

Then Ben came back and met me. He had no idea what had happened. We saw his coach across the restaurant and we went to say hello. They didn't notice the fall. I kept my composure. Then Ben helped me out to the car. As I neared the door I warned Ben that I was about to cry. It hurt. I was bleeding and my knee was already swelling up, but more than that, my ego had been badly bruised.

I thought about how some people try to protect their kids from witnessing these times of weakness but I couldn't stop myself. Perhaps it's not so bad for our kids to see these things. Perhaps it will foster a sense of compassion. When we pulled up to the house I was happy to see Greg putting up Christmas lights outside. I was smiling and crying at the same time. He hugged me and held me for just the right amount of time.

Today, while driving to water therapy, I thought to myself how there's always a hidden blessing, but not this time. There wasn't a blessing to falling in public. No way! And then it hit me. My cane! The cane I left in the car! Silly girl. There was your blessing. Several friends have given me some very special canes over the years but this cane, the cane that I shunned today, was hand carved by a friend from church. On the side there is an engraving: . . . and your strength will support me. Ps 139.10 (Pictured below.)

So yeah, I'm raising Cain to all this falling stuff BUT I'm raising my cane triumphantly for the love and compassion that went into these beautiful gifts!