MS

Hi. Sooo... I kind of skipped this post when I posted the last post. This post is the one where I actually state that it's believed I have MS. I say it that way because we're getting the final* word next Wednesday. We know what he's going to say, though. (*final word because it still may not be the final word, according to what I've read about how long it takes to diagnose MS)

I wasn't going to say anything official until after next Wednesday, but this whole thing has been ruling my brain for some time now and it appears that I cannot stop from writing about it. So there we are. Plus, my whole hometown in Florida knows about it, apparently, so I should just maybe start telling my own friends about it. (I include any readers as my friends. Awwww. *sigh* A bit sad, that.) I've been avoiding actually stating it also because on the off chance the neurologist says I don't specifically have MS next Wednesday, then I'll be the asshole who got everyone freaked out about nothing. Only, there's no way it's nothing. So, even if it's not MS, it would have to be some other really not good neurological disorder. Whew. OK.

I can't stand still. Literally. I weave when I try to stand still. Impaired balance, it seems. While my dizziness has abated and is no longer my primary symptom, I still have extreme fatigue to deal with. That's the most debilitating.

All that above paragraph? Hate it. I sound (and again, sorry) like a pussy. I do. That's how much I hate it, is that I'm willing to use the word pussy in a public fashion. Twice, it seems. It's just fatigue. "Snap out of it!" But, can't.

That's one good thing about getting a diagnosis of MS. My symptoms are no longer possibly just in my head. They are literally in my head. Ha. Meaning I have lesions. Haha! Not funny. Sorry. Oh, the other good thing about an MS diagnosis is that I have to no longer worry about my many social awkwardnesses. I have a disease! Of the brain! That's the reason I'm weird. That's the reason I have no memory of anyone's name ever. That's the reason. Yea.

For real, though, MS can alter your personality (see last post) and definitely alters your cognitive skills. Although, in my case, the cognitive skills thing might just be the fatigue. Hard to say. In any case, I now have a reason. Or excuse. Tomatoe, tomato. As far as why I was weird before, have been weird my whole life, though? That remains a mystery. Only not really (self-diagnosed Asperger's). Well, officially a mystery, I suppose.

I am a whole mess of mess right now. I'm not going to lie, that Mommy's Story pdf freaked me out. Despite the bleak picture painted by that book, I'm mostly in denial about what my future is going to be like. I'm pretty good at denial. This disease is weird too, which contributes to the denial. There really is no way to predict what's going to happen. Apparently, things can be mostly halted with medicine. Which is good. But no one ever says I'll be cured. That this will go away. This is going to be managed. Mother the fuck. (sorry)

So, in denial and a bit angry. I had plans. To go back to work when my son goes to Kindergarden. To travel to France for our fifteenth wedding anniversary (I'm a long-term planner). Just to travel. To have fun with my kids. (Kids are not invited to France.) But, go camping with them. Do stuff. And while, yes, I will be able to do stuff, this fatigue may never go away. May never go away. And that's really hard for me to handle right now.

Alright. For my rl friend who follows me, sorry to share this with you this way, but I haven't even told any friends in rl in any way. I've got to do that soon. And tell my children's teachers, apparently. Mother the fuck (sorry).

I might be injecting myself with medicine until the end of time. Oh and I'm feeling super sorry for myself right now, which I am allowing because I don't believe in suppressing emotions nowadays. Sorry to burden any reader with that. Mother the fuck.

I'll leave you with a Phebe related thing. A portrait of Phebe's brother, General Heard. Possibly her half-brother. But still. I could still find a portrait of her someday and that's something to look forward to. (What if she's "unfortunate" looking? Who will be the star in my historical romance novel imaginings then?) Anyway, here he is, Brigadier General Heard (image from this website). He has reenactors, y'all.

What do you think? Should I submit him to Bangable Dudes in History? I like his nose, actually. Strong nose. Oh, and I like his cravat/shirt thing going on.

I'm going to the Monmouth County Historical Society Museum on Friday. First of many visits, I hope. Phebe is a wonderful distraction.

Until next time...