Atypical Multiple Sclerosis

Wow, I can’t believe a month has passed since my baclofen pump surgery.  I continue to have the pump adjusted. It is a process like everything else in life. I go for weekly adjustments until we find the perfect dose. Meanwhile, life goes on.

I work with a physical therapist to help strengthen my legs and stretch out my muscles. This time there is light at the end of the tunnel. This is the third endeavor with the same pt. Bless her, she is extremely experienced in progressive ms, understands all that atypical ms encompasses and cares. Most of all she cares.

The last time I saw her, I was getting ready for the pump surgery-back in the beginning of June 2008. She tried to patch me up as best she could until the surgery, but was fighting an incredibly steep uphill battle. Finally conceding that despite her best effort I was losing ground. The best I could do was wait for the surgery, after which she would be of real help. The tears in her eyes as she had this heart to heart with me, touched me deeply. She cares about her patients. Her patients are real people struggling, fighting for better moments. The openness of her concession touched my heart so much that I really felt her pain. Felt and understood the helplessness of her words. She was in the business of making people better and I was the wrench caught in the cogs.

So, a month later with physical therapy script in hand, I sashayed into her office. With jaw dropped to the floor and tears in her eyes this physical therapist welcomed me back with open arms. Literally, open arms. Our smiles stretching from wall to wall. “Now this is something to celebrate! You have made my entire month by walking in here.”  Her words touched my heart. She had helped me out so much in the past, I was glad to see her eager face again.

I barely notice the pump anymore. Once in a while when I move into a certain positions the pump bumps into my ribs. That I feel. Otherwise, not so much. We (hubby, son and I) nicknamed the pump ‘Tigger’ because it keeps me bouncing. Meanwhile, they (hubby and son) jokingly consider me a cyborg. I’ll gladly take that label.

I move so easily now. Still not as naturally as one should move, but so naturally that I can easily forget, if even for a moment, ms has changed my life. Have you ever been caught in a wind that starts at the top of the trees and blows threw you as it sweeps past. I was caught in one of those winds the other day. So what you say. Well I was actually able to throw out my arms and enjoy the sweep breeze because I didn’t have lofstrand crutches attached to my arms. 

We ( I include myself before ms) take movement, simple, easy, graceful, natural movement for granted. The simple beauty of walking naturally, of moving with ease, without thinking about it, without mechanical assistance is something we should all take a moment and enjoy. Really, take a moment a walk, simply walk, take a few steps. Concentrate on just each step. Feel each foot fall, feel the ground, the floor underneath your feet. It is truly a wonderful sensation.

That is probably the greatest lesson I have learned this past month, these past few years living with ms: take each moment as it comes, enjoy every moment, see the simple beauty by keeping your eyes and your mind where your feet are. In this way you are always awake and aware enough to enjoy and live each moment. Good stuff. At least good enough for now.