Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Random Thoughts on a Tuesday Morning

My Brain is a Word Salad
Too many thoughts bouncing around in my brain to settle on one to write about. Not sure if it is the affect on my brain of the flare up I am dealing with or just that many small thoughts have taken up residence in my head.
Update on last post: My trip north in our short-lived heat wave was a success from an MS perspective. By that, I mean, the joy of watching a dear friend confirmed as a circuit court judge outweighs the challenge of the past few days. It would be fabulous if a direct line of sight could be drawn between overdoing it last Thursday with the following uptick in my symptoms. But, as anyone who has or lives with someone who has MS, figuring out the whys and wherefores of what makes MS better or worse is a mystery. I just know that this morning my lungs are congested because I am slumping worse than usual to the left--this compresses my lung and makes it slightly more difficult to breath--and I forgot to raise the head of my bed a little higher last night.
Pain Sucks: When I was a young woman I had migraines that I thought were the worst pain I could tolerate. I was wrong. I found that childbirth is no picnic, but results in the present of a beautiful new life. From what I can tell, persistent nerve pain has no 'up side.' I wish humans were born with a box of spare parts; so I could unfasten my arms and set them aside for a few days and wear my 'stunt' pain free set. I guess it is a good thing God didn't put me in charge of the creation of humans.
Alone vs. Lonely: In Sundays paper local columnist Dorcas Smucker, who is a farmer, wife, and mother of a big family, wrote about having the house to herself for a weekend. Her insights struck a chord with me because they reflect my own experience so well. {Entire column}
"The house seemed dim and huge. Everything from furniture to a left-behind air mattress seemed still and unmoving. How many closed doors did this house have? More than usual, especially upstairs, surrounding the silent hallway. I heard noises I never notice — the clock ticking, the wind, the dog brushing past on the porch, the refrigerator humming."

Later, she talked about what she learned about being alone.

I have had many friends who lived alone, and one thing I have found hard to understand, especially in the elderly, is their hunger for time with others, their desperate compulsion to talk. Now, after lighting up at the sight of my son after only four hours alone, I had a new understanding of my friends’ need to talk with a visible face.Too much solitude brings loneliness, but just enough brings the gift of rest. I was free to read, to pray, to ponder without interruption.

I often hunger for human contact, human touch and then find that my light and sound sensitivity combined with the intense nerve pain make it almost impossible for me to be around people. I will haul myself out of my bedroom, lure the teenager from his lair, grab the hubbie and curl up on the couch for a movie and in no time the National MS Warning Center that is my brain sends out hurricane warnings. The sound of keys tapping on my son's laptop, the high pitch of the TV, the dining room light, all start to swirl in my brain until I feel the top of my head start to come off. The careful walls I've built to buffer the pain begin to crumble and suddenly I rush for the sheltering cove of solitude and silence. For me, aloneness brings loneliness, but my symptoms make being around living beings just about impossible. I don't know what the answer is.

Children, Children, Children: I am so grateful for the children who grace my life.
  • a new baby girl born to dear friends on 1 July. Holding her was the best feeling ever!
  • my 5-yr old friend and lunch at the park. She's been my buddy since the day she was born and knows me only with a wheelchair, so is completely at ease. Climbing into my lap for snuggles and a 'ride.' She is balm for my soul.
  • my 18 yr old son. He is home from college for the briefest of weeks. It is bittersweet to see the independent young man he has grown into. I am both proud of who he is becoming and missing the little boy who, in what seems like yesterday, climbed into my bed to eat chocolate cream pie for breakfast.
  • my nephew and my neice's son. Busy little boys who magically grow and change every time I am lucky enough to see them.
That is all for now. I am going back to my quiet nest with my snoring dog at my side.

And, a nod to a fellow blogger who introduced me to, "Word Salad"

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

That loneliness factor is playing a huge role in my mom's life now--she chatters away, and always lovingly, when we get together. --Janet W