A Horrible, Very, Bad Day

I'm sure we remember the book we read as a child about Alexander and his bad day.  To a little kid, it's funny how everything goes wrong.  We could relate.

Today, I was thinking about the title.  I was thinking I can relate.

My life with the no-good days started in high school gym class.  I remember it vividly. I had a gym teacher, who happened to be the track coach. I'm sure he felt it was his responsibility in life to make everyone an Olympic runner, whether they wanted to be or not.

It was cold and rainy outside, and it was another terrible day of running laps around our immense gym.  We had a 50-minute period to run- around the gymnasium mezzanine; down the stairs and across a large stage; then, down another set of stairs to the gym floor; circle around the floor and back up the stairs; head back across the stage, up the opposite stairs, and to the mezzanine;  only to repeat the process all over again. And if you were caught cutting, drop to your knees and do so many push-ups.

Now, I could do about a 7 1/2 minute-8 minute mile depending on the day.  But, I was not on the track team nor did I like gym class.  I couldn't climb a rope to save my life (and he knew this), and I was lucky to do two push-ups.  I played tennis on my own; went hiking in the back country with my family; but basically, all around sucked in this class.  He did not like me.  I think he thought I was always trying to come up with ways to get out of his class, which I didn't.  I worked hard and tried to not complain.

On this particular day, I was on the mezzanine, running.  It was about 30-minutes into class when my right leg just gave out, and I hit the cement floor.  My fellow classmates made derogatory remarks to me about being in the way and tripping them up.  One of the most popular girls in the school was in my class and just happened to be running by. She 'accidentally' stepped on me. We know how that works.   Anyway, the coach runs up,  "Get up!"

I tried. My leg was jello.  It buckled under me again.  "I'm trying."  I showed him I was attempting it and came crashing down again, bruising my knee on the hard cement.

"Quit faking it and get up!"

"I can't.  My leg won't work."  I was pretty close to tears and trying not to look like a wuss.  Classmates were running by, and I could feel the sneers burning a hole into my head.

Coach yelled at the TA.  "Drag her over to the side, so she isn't in the way of those of us who want to run." He took off running with the rest of the class.  The TA came over and tried to yank me up on my feet. My leg wouldn't support my weight and buckled under me again.  He grabbed my arm, dragging me over by some folded bleachers.  I wanted to crawl under the bleachers and die.

That was my first experience with an MS symptom.  My mother took me into our doctor, and he didn't have a clue about what was going on.  He banged on my knee and couldn't duplicate the symptom.  When he heard about me playing tennis, he jumped on it and said "Oh, that's it.  You have tendinitis.  Take these pills, and you'll be all better."

So, that was that.  Just a horrible, bad day.  Humiliation and some pills.

Thankfully, for me, nothing else happened for ten more years.  I was able to enjoy college, dating, newlywed life, and my children for a few brief months before I started having a few more of those terrible days.  And with those ten years, a bit of maturity.

I'm not saying maturity helps things.  Like today for instance, I can label it just as Alexander did-the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.  But I can also look back at a lot of good days and hope they're right around the corner.