Seem that drugs have an entirely different meaning to those who don't need them.
They look upon 'em with, uh, recreational aspirations. (I must be Martian. I was a musician for years and I never really partook. [I've only got one word for people who sit around gigling inanely and never finishing a sentence: B-O-R-I-N-G!])
I was speaking with someone the other day who first met me when I was MC-ing the local ALS Walk. ALS is easily one of the most cruel illnesses, and I happily lend my skills to fundraising for this cause. My friend and I were comparing ALS and MS. In the majority of cases ALS is a death sentence within a few years whereas MS is rarely fatal. ALS is continuously and quickly progressive from Day 1 whereas MS is much slower. MS is uncertain, a characteristic about which we MSers like to complain. We don't know what each day will bring. You know what? I realized that this characteristic is something I should celebrate. I may not know what's going to happen, but it just might be great. And I know I have many tomorrows left.
We humans like to be in control. Diseases like ALS and MS can quickly remove that control but we still try to assert some control. I do that by taking Avonex once a week. In my butt. The boyfriend sticks me with that needle after I take some Tylenol to battle the side effects. 4 hours later, around bedtime, I take more Tylenol, the 8 hour stuff, so I can sleep through the night. Usually the next morning, another dose and I'm set for another week.
I've been on the stuff for 8 years now and so far so good. I've had one minor relapse. Is it all because of the Avonex? No idea. I'm sure it has something to do with it, but as one of my neuros is quick to tell me, attitude is pretty important, too.
So as much as I, like the rest of humanity, don't like change, I will celebrate my ever changing disease and do what I can do to make a difference.
But rather than griping, I too am celebrating the fact that in my case at least, MS has offered me as much as it has taken away.
(Okay I'm lyin', but I tell myself that there's no pain, my senses seems to be intact, and apart from the fact that I don't go out when its hot, because I'm likely to be a swetty spot on the sidewalk, I can still get around, albeit much more slowly than I like. [And the money will take care of itself. {Okay, I'm lyin' again. It won't. So I'll just have to make niche podcasting into a success.}])
Comments (0)
You don't have permission to comment on this page.