Oh it totally ties in with ms, don't fear.
Yesterday, I was having a casual conversation with my boss about a friend who also has ms. She, like me, has "invisible symptoms". Said friend and I have occasionally had in depth conversations over dessert where she has expressed that her husband just doesn't "get it" and how that can sometimes pose a bit of a problem for the two of them.
I shared with my boss how sometimes I feel like my friend. My husband is a fantastic guy, but he'd just as soon swing from a jungle rope a la Tarzan to get past a laundry basket of freshly folded clothing than carry it upstairs. He'd rather win at Dish Jenga than load the dishwasher. He'd rather take the strands of hair that collect in the tub's drain and fling them up against the shower tile than reach out of the shower to the trash can to properly dispose of them. Sometimes I think he's trying to create a piece of art. Oh come on, don't pretend that I'm the only one who loses half a head of hair each time I wash it. Praise the Lord that I can grow twice that in my sleep...
It's my own fault. In the early days, I gushed over him. I served his homemade dinners to him, retrieved his iced tea, dished out his ice cream, and didn't ask him to raise a finger. Then came a drastic change in energy levels, and a whole lotta focus on self. I went from thinking, "how can I serve him" to wishing he'd have gotten a subscription to Psychic Friends Network so he could know that today was a bad day and I needed his help. And that, when I explained to him that I was feeling weak, not seeing straight, or some other scary thing, he'd go catatonic and I'd angry carry, angry load, or angry de-hair, feeling hurt and offended.
So, as I was sharing some of this with my boss, the following phrase came out. "It's not that these husbands aren't great guys, I mean, when they married us...we were so strong and could do everything. And now, I think my husband wonders if he'll get a call some morning that mommy can't get up out of bed and walk..." Uh oh. Fear struck, enter tears in 3, 2... WHOA! Where'd THAT ultra sad thought come from? Who me? Couldn't be!" But it was. And every scary thought hit me all at once. Well that was just stupid of me. But thankfully, the boss is cool, she is one of my best friends, and she has tissues.
Today, I went on a field trip with my son. For some reason, my health dramatically declined throughout the trip. Lost feeling in my feet, was vibrating from the waist down, I was swaying, and could barely stay awake. If it weren't for my 32 trips to the bathroom, I'd have been asleep on my numb feet.
Last stop was the gift shop. I stood there listening to the beautiful music of "Oh Holy Night". I had to consciously tell myself my legs were NOT weak, I was NOT swaying, and I was wide awake. I was singing in my head when my son decided to take my hand and have a dance with me. Suddenly, the swaying became an asset...as long as I did it along with the music. And I began to get verklempt all over again, but for joy this time and not fear. 'Cause like my favorite parts of that song say:
Long lay the world In sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd And the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope The weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks A new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!
And in His name All oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy In grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us Praise His holy name.
I don't need to cry over what might never happen. I just need to remember that, no matter what happens, it's all just temporary. Forever is a whole lot better.