Sometimes, when you’re having trouble expressing yourself, for whatever reasons, it’s time to BLOG!! So, this past year has thrown me a shitload of obstacles…most were just annoyances that I could handle. But, when the Red Sea parts and the obstacles start gushing down on you…when you start sinking to the bottom from the sheer weight of them,..when you start gasping for air….it’s time to BLOG!!
My illness is progressing. It’s having a party and I’m sadly invited. Except for a select few, I really haven’t shared most of what is going on. And, even then, I have not shared everything with those select few. My increasing falls, the dizziness, the extreme weakness, the incessant pain and burning throughout my body, the ever increasing inability to complete sentences, the eyesight that feels like a heavy fog that refuses to lift and the neuralgia. My latest symptom has hit the face…..IN YOUR FACE. It feels like an unknown entity is literally pulling my left eye and mouth down. Dude, if I start drooling, I am out of here.!! So, I go undercover. I wear huge Jackie O sunglasses to hide the droopy eye. I wear carefully selected scarves and wrap them around and around my neck until they strategically cover my droopy mouth. Oh, I look hot…let me tell you…I stop traffic. I now use either a cane or a walker so I don’t fall limp on the cement pavements. Maybe, I should just throw a huge trashbag over me and be done with it… you know…..punch holes in the eye and nose area so I don’t totally walk into a tree. I’m too fucking young for this shit.
Each day, I swear, I can feel the myelin surrounding my nerves, melting. I think I can hear it, too. That precious myelin that protects the nerves and keeps them from screaming bloody murder. No one can see the melting myelin. No one can see the white lesions invading my brain. No one can see the screaming nerve endings. All they do see, is the fucking scarves, sunglasses and canes that decorate my persona.
Self pity??? Maybe a little. This is reality, folks. ..it’s punching me in the throat. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll punch it back. Right now, I’m just too fucking tired to lift my arms
Symptoms of a Brain Cloud 