Interview

Thank you BCIT, for this opportunity. 

They arrived at two, stayed for an hour and a half.  And I had all sorts of fun.

I got to "talk" to the side of the camera (without actually looking at the camera).  I got to faux-blog, and even go sit outside in the sun with a refreshing glass of lemonade - all while the camera was rolling.  There was even a slow-motion moment of raising the glass to my lips, taking a sip, and putting it back down again.

These TV people really know how to work the details. 

Cheesy?  Apparently not.  They call it "personal."

And I'll take their word for it - they were consummate professionals. 

I even got to point out the kid-art on the fridge.  SpongeBob was a big hit.  Thanks Jack, for your masterpiece.

Funny how - just last year - in the moment after my diagnosis - I managed to coherently pick a "theme" that would be so media-friendly.  First, in newsprint, I squeezed some lemons.  Today, I got to drink them.

Most importantly - I got to talk about my journey so far.  My struggles, my hopes for the future.  My aspirations to bring awareness to MS - through any mode that I can.

And I think MS needs recognition.  Just a little bit more.

Today I am thinking about...

My foot.  The left one.  Again. 

And my left hand.  Again.

Damn it.

I've felt it festering for a day now.

The tingling and numbness is exacerbated again - spreading to more fingers, and to the bottom of my foot. 

This time, I am having some pain with it.  Mostly with stepping.

I am not sure if things are getting bad because of the heat we've been having (MS can get really bad with an increase in body temperature) or if this is something new. 

As of now - I wait and see how it goes.  How it feels and whether it gets any worse.

I find it mostly affects typing - I end up using only one finger on my left hand, as it's too uncomfortable to use the rest.

Meanwhile - as if on cue - today is my TV interview at home.  Which means, these numb digits and I need to get cleaning.  And do my hair.  Maybe some makeup too.

Coffee time.

1 Day in May

 

May is International MS awareness month.

And this May, the Multiple Sclerosis Society of Canada launched "1 Day in May," a campaign to raise awareness about MS and the lives of Canadians impacted by the disease. 

1 Day in May urges people, with or without MS, to put this disease in the spotlight and support those living with MS.

Canadians are encouraged to choose a day in May to take action for those impacted by MS.  Every single act, big or small, is a step towards a stronger community presence and the collective movement to help end MS in Canada.

There are lots of ideas here:

http://1dayinmay.ca/bepartof/index.php

I wrote to the candidates in my riding for the upcoming election (and actually got responses).

So, are you going to participate?

 

It's the little things...

When your husband can dispose of your full sharps bin at work (so you don't look like a junkie at London Drugs), you know you've got it made...

The little things, I tell ya.

Happy mucky kids!

I have no extraordinary words of wisdom for today.  Just a thought...

I feel so content, relaxed - calm even - (and that makes this whole parenting thing a whole lot easier) when my boys are happy.  When they laugh hysterically, eat lots of ice cream, and enjoy the first hot, sunny weekend of the year.

Whether I am able to join in or not, it doesn't matter. 

Smiles really are great medicine.

Friday night fun...

My Copaxone box o' tricks

I am only 10 days into my new regime, but it still feels very foreign.  Life stops at 7pm every day - I take a bath to warm up my skin, do my injection, then ice it until I cannot feel the stinging.

It's foreign, yes; and a huge nuisance, yes.  But I am no longer scared or anxious.  I just do it. 

That little voice inside me, holding on to the hope that this medication can bring, still believes.

Friday night fun - injection at 7, bed by 8!

Happy weekend everyone!

This is what support looks like:

 

These people, my people, came out early on a Sunday morning.  They commuted from far, wore crazy clothes on public transit, wiped snotty noses on snotty kids, and cheered.

 

They came for me.  And I cannot even express how much that means. 

 

Nobody else on my team has MS.  Nobody else becomes a human pin-cushion or experimental patient.  But - these people - they get it.  They don't need to live it in order to understand it.

 

Thank you for the support, my friends!