MS and summers don't mix. The heat drains energy and exacerbates the symptoms. For me, my right leg seems to fluctuate between a cement post or a Jell-o Jiggler. This causes tremendous problems with walking and balance.
My family decided to go to the monster truck show one evening of the county fair. We parked in the back and beyond (yes, even the handicap places where out there). We decided to take a 'short' cut. To my dismay, there was a little canal with a bridge. Just before the bridge was a 5" step up. Before I could start panicking over that, Rick told me to get off the scooter and the men would just lift the it over it. I'd walk up the step and continue to ride the scooter over the bridge and down the other side (there was no step on the other side). Problem solved.
We wandered around the fair; looked at the ribbons I'd won for the exhibits I'd entered; ate some greasy fair food; and then, went over to the monster truck show. By this time, I was hot and tired, even with riding on my scooter. This is never good for MS. Being tired wears you down faster; it also makes me cranky.
Rick and I sat in the handicap section, only to be told 30 minutes before the show started that we had to move, since we were in the 'splatter zone'. We could stay there if we wanted to be hit with flying mud. We weren't the only disabled people who had to move. All the seats were taken by then, but folding chairs were brought in, and we were given good viewing seats. Good thing, too! I was really cranky by then. :)
By the time the show was over, I was in a good mood. We slowly made our way back to the car via the short cut. When we got to the bridge, I hopped of the scooter, and instantly, my leg turned into a cement post.
This is where a good sense of humor comes in when having any type of disease. You must be fast on your feet and and have a quick wit. The feet part wasn't going to happen this night, but the wit part didn't fail me.
As I was trying to step down, I started off with the wrong foot--the cement post, stiff-as-a-board leg. I felt myself start to fall. Think of this in slow motion:
My hands went out in front of me. In my mind, I was remembering several years ago when I had fractured my left wrist 3 times, fractured my left elbow, and sprained my right wrist. I went to pull my hands back when out of the corner of my eye, I see a tall figure walking toward me. I reach out toward it and grab hold.
(Back to normal speed)
This tall figure was a dad carrying his four-year old daughter on his shoulders. He catches my arms as I go stumbling forward, threatening to drag his shirt down the front of his body. Together, we teeter around, while his daughter has a death-grip on to his hair. As we gain our balance, I apologize profusely, and he tells me it's no problem. We laugh, and he checks to see that I'm okay. Rick runs over to us only to find all is well. Meanwhile, the little girl is staring at me, my scooter, and pipes up, "Are you old?"
Her dad dies a thousand deaths, and I laugh at her. "Older than you, sweetie. Older than your dad."
"I'm sorry for my daughter. She has a problem with saying the first thing that comes out of her mouth. No shut off valve."
"You don't look old, but you have..."
"Hahaha, honey that's enough. Let the nice lady move on."
"It's okay. She just wants to know why I have a cane and a scooter, " Turning to the curious little girl, I tell her I need those to help me walk so I'm not falling like I just did on to her daddy.
She looks all knowing and nods her head. The dad apologizes for her rudeness and rushes off. As he does, I can hear her telling him, "I still think she's old."
I laughed all the way to the car. It made light an embarrassing situation. It also took my mind off my sore and twisted ankle. But it also got me thinking about how many times parents try to shush up the kids when all they are trying to do is find out information.
I've had children ask me before why I have a cane or walk with a limp. I used to be offended. But then, I realized they really do want to know. They aren't being rude. To them, it's a new world and they want to know how it works. Sometimes, we both have fun with it.
I've told my Cub Scouts my cane has a secret sword hidden in it, and if they don't behave, I will slash them to ribbons. Of course, I wink, and then, they know I'm joking, But it takes the awkwardness out of the situation. I've let my young women in our youth group use my walker or wheelchair for fun and to experience what it would be like to have disabilities. In public, I've noticed stares from children and answered their unasked questions-much to their parents' chagrin. But it's okay. It's how everyone learns to deal with disabilities. It's how I learn to let people into my life and how they learn that I'm a normal person.
If you are reading this, you need to think of where you stand. Are you a person who is afraid to let someone talk to a disabled person? Afraid of offending them or embarrassing them? Sometimes the person will be. Maybe they haven't gotten over the pain, anger, frustration, or whatever grudge they are carrying in their life. If you happen to run into one of those, just apologize for disturbing them, wish them a wonderful day, and move on. But I can safely say, most people are not like that. We would love to share and talk with you.
Or, are you the person who hates to have people ask about your day or about what's ailing you? Does it make you afraid to have another human being want to know what makes you tick? Is there anything wrong with someone else talking to you and try to socialize with you? If so, I'm sorry for you! Being a hermit is no way to live. Yes, we all need a little 'me' time, but too much of it, isn't very good. Most people don't bite. Reach out and find someone to share your burdens with and you'll find life is so much easier to bear. Even if you're told you're 'old' by a little four-year old!
