Thursday, December 23, 2010

Carnival of MS Bloggers #78

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

Three Years of the Carnival!!

from Judy at Peace Be With You


Sometimes one gets lost
in the hustle and bustle
and forgets to breathe.

Finding one’s stillness
becomes elusive when pressed
to match the world’s whir.

A moment of peace
restores and rejuvenates
so one can go on.


by Trish of These Pretzels Are Making Me Thirsty


http://xkcd.com/


by Mis of Just My Thoughts...

On the first day of Christmas MS gave to me, a painful shot in the ass.

On the second day of Christmas MS gave to me, two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the third day of Christmas MS gave to me, three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the fourth day of Christmas MS gave to me, four spastic limbs
three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the fifth day of Christmas MS gave to me, five... glowing...lesions!!
four spastic limbs
three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the sixth day of Christmas MS gave to me, six handicapped parking permits
five... glowing...lesions!!
four spastic limbs
three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the seventh day of Christmas MS gave to me, seven tricked out power scooters
six handicapped parking permits
five... glowing...lesions!!
four spastic limbs
three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the eighth day of Christmas MS gave to me, eight stuttering brain farts
seven tricked out power scooters
six handicapped parking permits
five... glowing...lesions!!
four spastic limbs
three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the ninth day of Christmas MS gave to me, nine tingling numb sensations
eight stuttering brain farts
seven tricked out power scooters
six handicapped parking permits
five... glowing...lesions!!
four spastic limbs
three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the tenth day of Christmas MS gave to me, ten ungraceful falls
nine tingling numb sensations
eight stuttering brain farts
seven tricked out power scooters
six handicapped parking permits
five... glowing...lesions!!
four spastic limbs
three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the eleventh day of Christmas MS gave to me, eleven different medications to take daily
ten ungraceful falls
nine tingling numb sensations
eight stuttering brain farts
seven tricked out power scooters
six handicapped parking permits
five... glowing...lesions!!
four spastic limbs
three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass.

On the twelfth day of Christmas MS gave to me, twelve more months of random weird pain
eleven different medications to take daily
ten ungraceful falls
nine tingling numb sensations
eight stuttering brain farts
seven tricked out power scooters
six handicapped parking permits

five... glowing...lesions!!

four spastic limbs
three days of Solumedrol
two vision impaired eyeballs
and a painful shot in the ass!



This concludes the 78th edition and third year of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on January 6, 2011. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, January 4, 2011.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Carnival of MS Bloggers #77

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

What Can You Do? What Should You Know? How To Get Back Up Again!

by Diane Standiford of A Stellarlife
  1. Eat healthy
  2. Exercise any part of your body that you can
  3. Reach out to people, family, friends, strangers
  4. Discover YOU. What makes you laugh? What are your fears? What is fun?
  5. Laugh, educate your fears into remission, have fun!

by Diane Standiford of A Stellarlife

Take a deep breath.

The majority of people diagnosed with MS will live a long life and never need a wheelchair.

You have a disease that has warped ahead in the last 20 years to a place where there are many avenues you can take to manage it. It will be managed; you CAN do it.

Every week, new research is leading us closer to answers about MS.

You are not alone. There are support groups and many blogs written by people with MS. Join the community!

Time is on your side. MS will not kill you. "Death by Ms" is rare and if you are that bad off, then you are not reading this. (If you don't believe me, ask your doctor.)

Keeping your body in good shape is essential to living well with MS. Exercise, eat healthy, rest, follow your passion.

Don't make hasty decisions, especially when you are having a relapse. Most MS starts as relapsing/remitting, "This too shall pass."

Talk with your friends and family. They will want to help you.

Educate yourself about MS! With the Internet you have a WORLD of information, use these tools and sharpen your emotional tools.

DON'T quit your job until you have tried everything to keep it, the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) mandates that an employer give you reasonable accommodations. Sometimes the simplest of changes can mean being able to keep your job.

Form a good relationship with your primary care doctor. MS will NOT be responsible for every physical problem you have.

Breathe. Focus on the good things in life and go after them now. Surround yourself with things that make you happy. Help others whenever you can. Give. The return is always great.

Your new adventure awaits you! Embrace MS, it is a part of you now. There is always a chance a cure is in your future!

Start a diary, let your feelings out. It is okay to cry, to be afraid, but don't let MS define you and don't let fear be the boss of you.

Hey! Think about staring your own MS blog. It is easy to do. We will warmly welcome you!


by Jennifer Digmann

Yes, on my face.

Couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Or so I thought. Right there on a break from my class, Dan was helping me to pivot in the Anspach Hall bathroom and SMACK!


Profanity! Profanity! Profanity! And Tears … tears … tears. And that wasn’t just me. I heard profanity and tears coming from Dan too.

It was frightening, fast and so sudden. I couldn’t even lift my head off the tile. I didn’t want to even move and I was face down on a public bathroom floor. That’s how bad it hurt.

This was supposed to be a standard trip to the bathroom. Same as we had done for each Tuesday evening over the past nine weeks of the semester. I have a regularly scheduled break during my Anthropology 590 graduate class, “Gender, Culture & Society.” During this time Dan comes to the CMU campus building to help me go to the bathroom.

And it normally runs like clockwork. We get a break. We go to the bathroom. I ask if any of the women there minds if my husband comes in to help me – which they never do because women rule! –and he helps me with pivoting and transferring on and off the toilet and back into my chair.

But this night, the night before our largest speaking presentation ever, a rare miscommunication in the transfer back into my chair had me simultaneously thinking, “Timber!” and “This is going to hurt,” as I fell shoulder first into the bathroom stall and then flat on my face. Thus the imprint. For real. You can see the tile lines on my cheek!

I’m lucky that there was no blood, I didn’t break any teeth, and we were able to get help (thanks, Sarah, Dr. Brown and Josh!).

I was fine once I calmed down. Dan was too. I think I took a couple ibuprofen and sat on the couch after my professor let me go home from class early (Thanks again, Dr. Brown!).

And I geared up for the next day’s presentations with the Women’s Initiative at noon in Mt. Pleasant and the Shiawasee County MS Self-help Group later that evening in Owosso.
Speaking with Dan in front of 300 people at the Women's Initiative event (thanks for the photo, Peggy!)

Speaking with Dan in front of 300 people at the Women's Initiative event (thanks for the photo, Peggy!)

Marked with the sign of the bathroom tile floor, Dan and I delivered two of our best speaking engagements the next day. We were fortunate enough to share our story and increase MS awareness, all while I was rockin’ my first-ever black eye : -)

And to be frankly honest, I sported that black eye with pride because it symbolized both the reality of my Multiple Sclerosis and my determination to not let this disease hold me down.

[Note: Jennifer's black eye has cleared up and she is busily writing her last paper of the semester.]


This concludes the 77th edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on December 16, 2010. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, December 14, 2010.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Carnival of MS Bloggers #76

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

Fall Inspiration, MS Paradoxes, Bowel Management

by Lisa Emrich of Brass and Ivory


Colorful leaves have been falling to the ground for weeks.  Rainfalls have drenched the ground.  The combination has left a gorgeous 'painting' upon my front sidewalk.  The gray stone is etched with images of leaves now blown away on the wind.

Nature is truly beautiful.  In fact, the universe works in glorious ways.

I am often the beneficiary of forces which keep my life balanced and moving forward, always leaving a smile on my heart.

Read this excerpt from my Monday's post on MyRACentral:
My voice has gotten stronger over the years since disease has moved in.  I used to be a shy person who never spoke up or tried to draw attention to myself.  However, I was fairly comfortable when I had a musical instrument at my hands to speak for me.

Lately, I’ve not been performing music on stage as frequently, but I have been using my voice to speak to people....
Many times in my life, I have experienced a minor disappointment, such as a student quitting lessons, only to have two new potential students call the next day asking about lessons.

So Monday I mention publicly that I haven't been performing as much lately.  Then Tuesday, I receive an email offering me the opportunity to perform in a concert this Sunday.  Unfortunately one rehearsal is scheduled on Saturday morning, during the very same time that I have a prior commitment.  I tell the contractor about this conflict, but mention that I am available for the other services (rehearsals and performance) if he still needs me.  The contractor asks me to reserve those other dates, just in case.

Thursday, I was traveling out of town to speak on a panel of health activists at a conference.  While at the event, I happened to meet up with someone and we had a long conversation during which I talked about being a musician.  He asked about the types of groups I play with and I mention my favorite gig - performing with the National Gallery of Art Orchestra.  I even mention that they have a concert this coming Sunday.

After leaving the conference and sitting on the train coming home, I get a chance to check my email.  What do I find?  The confirmation that I am needed to perform with the NGA orchestra this Sunday although I will miss one of three rehearsals.

In general with all of the traveling I've been doing, I have been practicing less.  My playing 'chops' are a bit mushy and out of shape (to be honest).  I was almost relieved that I might not be able to play this concert but not for the reason of turning down the opportunity.

However, I am needed to play.  I need to play.  I need to be able to play.  I spend some time Thursday night exercising my lungs and chest, breathing into the horn.  Coaxing a warm sound from the cold metal, vibrations traveling upon the air.  Praying that the body takes over and demonstrates more strength than I should be allowed to expect with the neglect it has suffered.

Friday (today) I go to rehearsal, music unseen awaiting me on the music stand.  I find music from composers unknown, horn parts both exposed and transparent.  Any wobbles or mishaps will be glaringly apparent.

But then rehearsal begins.  The lips cooperate, the abs stay strong and firm.  The blend of sounds created by different instruments reminds me of the falling colorful leaves outside.  I breathe in the warm air of beautiful music.  It feels good to my body.  Good for my soul.

I needed this gentle reminder from the universe that I really am a musician, an artist deep down.  Just as nature has left a piece of art on my sidewalk, the universe continues to color my life with surprises and affirmations.  For this, I am eternally grateful. 



by Blindbeard of Blindbeard's Multiple Sclerosis Blog

Right now I can think of 2 major paradoxes of MS. I'm sure there are more, but these are the 2 that are torturing me at the moment.

1. I'm always tired but I can never get any sleep. Sure, I sleep for about 5-6 hours a night, and sometimes I can squeeze in an hour nap, but more often I can't get any decent sleep. I probably wouldn't even get those 5-6 sub par hours of sleep at night if my night meds didn't knock me out. Even in the haze of my night drugs, I still get up 2-3 times to pee each night. I have cut down all liquids after 6 pm, but my bladder still wants me to get up to drain those 3 drops that it has produced in the 2 hours since my last bathroom visit. I wake up throughout the night and check the time to see how much sleep I've gotten since the last time I checked the clock. It's never as much as I had hoped to see. And lately, I have been getting up in the 3's instead of the 4's as I used to in the days of yore. I try and stay in bed until 4, but it is a struggle. One morning I spent 25 minutes messing with the dogs before I had to raise the white flag and get out of bed. In those 25 minutes I got the dogs so wound up by plucking hairs off their fluffy buns and trying to stick them up their noses, that it was get out of bed or risk being covered in stinky dog spit. I chose to get up with only 75% of my body covered in stinky dog spit. I didn't want the dogs to start plucking hairs off my fluffy buns and try to stick them up my nose. I can dish it out but I can't take it.

2. My MS Hug squeezes me so tight that the only way to get any relief is to wear something tighter. Across my back and chest, right where a bra strap goes, is a line of pain and tightness that is only made bearable by squeezing the sh*t out of it. I have been wearing my tightest cast iron sports bra to help ease the pain. It is so supportive that I could use a jackhammer all day and not get the slightest jiggle out of my unmentionables. Even now, I have an Ace bandage wrapped so tightly around my chest that I can't draw a deep breath, but if I don't wear it, I can't draw a deep breath from the pain and tightness from the hug. I have Sugarbowl and Princess beat on my back and rub it as hard as they can. The pure ecstasy from that makes me moan and groan like I'm in the deepest throes of passion -- not exactly something I want to do with my sister and niece. They are good sports about it and take turns so one can rest her arm while the other beats the crap out of me. Sometimes abuse feels sooooo good! Sugarbowl is the best when it comes to any MS related help I need. She has the arm support thing down just right. She understands that I need a strong arm that I grab, not grabbing my arm like my mom does. My mom grabs a hold of my arm and runs off, dragging me behind. Sugarbowl lets me take her arm and lets me set the pace. You would think that a woman who works in a nursing home would know better than to drag a gimp along, but she hasn't figured that out yet. Sugarbowl also has the beating of my back down to a science. She knows to work it across the line of pain with a combination of hard rubs and deep pounding of her fists. I was in so much pain the other day, but she had to go to work, and I wished I could afford to pay her to stay home and work me over like she was tenderizing meat. Alas, I could not afford to have her stay home so I wore a corset of Ace bandages all day, waiting for her to get back home and abuse me some more.

Like I said, these are the only 2 paradoxes that come to mind right now, only because they are the 2 that won't let me forget they exist. If you have others, please let me know. I'm always interested in others' sufferings, even though I feel like I'm running a huge risk by asking. I'm afraid that my body will decide that it needs to add those problems to my already impressive repertoire of pain and agony.


by Diane of A Stellarlife

Constipation affects many people with multiple sclerosis.  I read all the "...most of the people..." symptoms as soon as I got my diagnosis and began my planning.

All my life I had been very regular.  Up in the morning, deposit in the loo, off for a run, home for my day to begin.  Even as a child, up in the morning, loo, on with day.  I took it for granted.  Never imagined anyone else had a problem.  Then I saw a photo of my uncle Arthur sitting on the john, chin in hand and written on the back was: "The Thinker."  My questions about why that was so funny led to my first understanding that for some a daily quick deposit is not so quick.

Then I read "the word" in an MS pamphlet.  Next I read how to avoid this problem, just in case it struck me.  I could understand how easily it might happen, since our ability to move becomes compromised.  When I needed my first scooter, I experienced the big C.   (Well, I DID experience Cancer at that time, but for this story that "C" is constipation.

WARNING GRAPHIC WORDS AHEAD
I no longer found the morning dump so reliable and I learned (after 40 years) that the word my mother taught me was "Grunty", NOT "Grunny."  Imagine my shock and embarrassment.  I had never needed to "grunt" before, but I certainly heard that a lot in my work place restroom.  (I kept asking friends, "Are they SICK?"  But, learned it was expected during most deposits. SHOCK)  So, then I had to take action.

First I analyzed my stools. (I warned you--this is not for the meek.), and noticed they were very dark.  Dark and hard as a rock.  I then examined my diet.  Yes, eating enough fruits, vegetables, whole grains...so I increased them all.  No change.  I swore Mr. Hankey was hard as iron.  LIGHT BULB MOMENT!  My multi-vitamin was IRON PLUS!  I thought that would be good for my MS.   Switched to non-iron.  Started reading labels of all the cereals and food I ate "iron-enriched" UGH!  I would probably explode in my next MRI!!

After a month of no extra iron, my stools returned to normal!  But, moving the bowels was still not quite right.  I remembered reading in Katherine Hepburn's autobiography that she had something called, "Psyllium," every day and she started her day with a bowel movement and dip in her lake.  I told this to my partner, who laughed and explained that was what Metamucil was.

AH!  I had seen many ads for this Metamucil stuff and although I lacked a lake, I would take it every day like my hero-actress (heroine-actor? eesch) Kate.  I began.  Not much happened. I called my doctor, "Could I take a higher dose?"  He agreed that might do the trick.

While I didn't like the consistency or color (orangish) of my poo (I WARNED YOU) I was once again going very easily.  Too easily.  It would come too fast and without warning.  What a messy situation for someone using a walker and unable to run to the loo.  I was starting to get discouraged.  Then, another light bulb---my belief was that simply drinking all the water necessary for the Metamucil dose was way more water than I'd ever drank at one time---what if I upped my water to that level and dropped the psyllium?  My fiber intake had been enough for many years...

It worked.  My bowels now move daily and are of perfect color and consistency.  I can even control what days I might want to hold off (like for doctor appts.) and up the next days water.  Such a simple fix.  I still have a nervous bowel---if I am anxious about something (like a visit from strangers) all bets are off and I can't ALWAYS make it in time to the loo, now that I must use a power chair, slow moving lift chair, transfer---but I am getting better each year at knowing when to start heading for the loo.

Yes, I discussed this with my doctors.  The nasty neuro I dumped, explained how MS effects the bowels and she showed me a poster on her wall that points out all the nerves there--wow!  Who knew?  She offered NO solutions or suggestions. My primary guy was his usual, "That is interesting."  He is still learning.   AND he is open to anything.  He KNOWS he is not God.  He also knows ME and how I experiment on myself.  My current neuro just brushed me off as usual.  She doesn't even see me anymore--has shoved me onto her rehab doc.  (I refused to be scared by her dire predictions for me and refused her drugs of choice.  She hates the sight of me.)

So...water, water, water, every other day 64oz, 32+ in between. Looking back, I really don't think this is MS related for me at all.  As a child I rarely drank and got my water from food, hense, I was over-weight.  When I got a handle on my weight, I began drinking water whenever I felt hungry.  I was not hungry, I was thirsty.  Since moving became difficult, I lowered my water intake without realizing it.  (To avoid extra trips to loo.)

When people tell me they just got DX MS, I tell them to drink more water.  Now, with the idea that iron is backing up across the blood-brain barrier, I wonder if that hurt me.

Too much IRON BAD.  WATER GOOD.  True for just about everyone!


This concludes the 76th edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on December 2, 2010. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, November 30, 2010.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Carnival of MS Bloggers #75

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

Courage to Speak Up, Speak Out, and Share

by Ragged Warrior

I was trapped in a toilet today. It was scary.

While out and about at an appointment today, I decided to find a salon for a shampoo and cut. I have been so weak lately that I have been unable to wash my hair myself. Since an entire week had passed since I last washed it, I thought the salon idea was a good idea. Unable to find one of the ‘cheap chain salons’ I found an independent salon that had a sign flashing: ‘walk-ins welcome’. OK, so I thought I would just ‘walk-in’.

The only problem was that it was next to a gym with full length glass windows. Ugh!!

I decided to waddle past the gym with my head turned the opposite direction. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be faced with skinny people jumping up and down for no reason. Plus, I didn’t want them to think that I cared if they pointed their finger at me and started laughing. So. I held my head high——and looked the other way while passing the spandex people.

I made my way to the welcome desk and asked if they could fit me in. Little did I know that the halls and booths in this salon were only 1 inch wider than my walker. And nothing could have prepared me for what would soon happen.

The receptionist said “yes, Tracy can help you in a few minutes”.

“OK” I replied.

I entered the salon area and pushed my walker through the aisles knocking brushes, hair sprays, and applicators to the floor. Women of all sizes and shapes quickly took refuge in all the nooks and crannies they could find, while beauticians pressed their bodies flat against their workspace. I pretended I was OK, but the truth was, I was struggling for each step. They turned away from me; perhaps hoping that they would never be in such a condition. People dressed in suits walked out of their offices, only to see me and turn back around. I hate it when faced with my own mortality, how about you? Plus, you know when you are traveling down the highway and you come upon a ‘wide load’, well it was sorta like that. They kept moving ’round and round’.

Suddenly, I wondered if my bladder might be full. You see, when you have MS, things like bladders don’t work like they are supposed to due to nerve death.

Some ladies are unable to control their bladders and have to carry various items with them. My friend has this. There is a special protocol that these ladies follow. First they use their containment buoys, “bam bam” my friend says, placing the buoys around her leaks. If that doesn’t work she throws trash, straw, hair and golf balls at the leak. The last resort is a concrete hat—it’s so hard to mix up the concrete though. When I am with her I remember to bring rags.

Then there are people like me. We have to push on the darn thing to get it to empty. And that is where our story begins.

So, I nonchalantly enter the handicapped stall and secure my walker. I sit down and begin to think about how I will complete this task. I muster up enough courage and plan the attack. I began pushing with all my might when to my horror, the toilet seat changes its axis violently, with no thought of my personal needs.

I cry out to God.

“Oh Lord, please say it isn’t so please God”.

It’s a true disaster, like an earthquake with Niagara Falls and the Hungarian sludge thrown in for good measure. I begin the inevitable ‘Slip n Slide’ down to the floor, my foot pushing a roll of toilet paper to the other stall. I grab the toilet paper holder and inch my way back up the toilet.

“Oh God!! NO NO NO” I cried!! Please help me Lord…..Jesus what do I do”.

This is where retroactive prayer comes in.

I say to God: “lord…..could you please pretend that I prayed about this this morning”?

I muster my strength to assess the damage. “Lord Jesus please help me” I muttered to myself.

“Oh no Lord….please tell me it isn’t on my clothes…what will I do”. Peeling off layers of clothing reveals the truth, it’s everywhere, in the front and back and down a leg. I am downhearted and blue.  What will I do?
I panic looking for a back door that I could escape from—there is none.

Oh, maybe there are…..paper towels………..oh man—it’s the blower type. I can’t get my rear up that high plus it would look suspicious if I was caught.

I’m trapped–I must plan an escape.
I could stay here and ask that they call 911.
I could glide on the wet path to the front desk and tell them I had a phone call of a serious nature.

OR

I could walk with my head held high, and have the girl do my hair. So, I decide on the latter, I will just pretend that nothing is wrong. If I talk enough, smile enough or laugh enough maybe she won’t notice.

So, that’s what I did. Did they notice? I don’t know. Am I going back? Not in a million years!

Did this really happen? Oh yes!!!

From now on, my friend and I will tag team.


from Carolyne's MS Odyssey

You know, it’s funny – most people would not describe me as a person in any way fearful of speaking her mind. In fact, quite the opposite – I am considered, as someone at work once put it, a “calm, funny, and politely pushy woman”. I took that to mean an assertive woman who gets things done! ;)

As MS’ers, we each have to be our own advocates, and speak out about our health, speak about our needs, ask about options, and so on. We must find our voices when dealing with our situations – especially with the medical community. I am well known within my own circle as someone who speaks her mind, challenges doctors if I feel it is necessary, and is generally not afraid to openly discuss any aspect of health situations & improving health with people. OK – I am pretty much not afraid to discuss anything! ;)

That being said, I had another “a-ha” moment the other day when my sister and I were  discussing the peace of chanting in yoga. I had never felt comfortable doing any chanting – but I enjoy listening to others chant. And I only whispered “namaste” very quietly, feeling too shy to speak it loudly enough to be heard. Namaste means “the spirit in me honours the spirit in you”. So when my sis challenged me to speak my inner voice – voice the word Namaste with feeling…well, I froze. The very thought made me tense up. And it made me wonder – why? Why was I afraid to speak loudly enough to be heard?

I pondered this in the woods the other day. SuperMike and I drove down to the south shore, quietly enjoying the brilliant fall colours and each other’s company. At his camp, while he closed things up, I wandered around a bit, and smelled the crisp air, shuffled my feet in the wet leaves, and simply breathed. At one point, I closed my eyes and whispered “namaste” to the trees around me, reveling in the feeling of nature and the sound of the wind through the trees. Did I figure out why I was nervous about speaking out loudly? No. But it struck me – I had not been down in that area of the province in over two years – since shortly before my accident. Wow – had I ever missed it!

Well – I have begun saying “namaste” more loudly – loudly enough so that the people beside me can actually hear me. And you know what? It is actually a freeing & personally charging sensation! Who-da thunk something so simple could feel so empowering? And it is already translating into other aspects of my life – I found myself saying “No – I need my rest” to people at work requesting more of my time than I could afford to give; I found myself speaking up in situations where I had been taking a back-seat roll. I am the kind of person that will put herself last in efforts to make sure those around her are comfortable and happy. Finding my voice, for me, meant finding the voice that says “I need to take care of me, too – and that’s ok.” For me, I had to embrace that “namaste” means also to honour my own spirit… and follow whatever form that may take in the moment.

That’s exactly what we have to do with MS every day, too, isn’t it?
Namaste.
Carolyne


from Kaleidoscope Muff


Since the blog police didn’t arrest me for my last post, I’ll continue with the second part of this verboten subject. Now, while the bladder blues started for me a while before I began to seek answers about my walking, the bowel bouts didn’t begin under I was going through all the testing. At first – here we go with denial again – I assumed it was caused by the anxiety I was experiencing, but as I researched on my own, that item kept cropping up. If I couldn’t discuss my dampness problem, I sure as H%*# couldn’t talk about this one!

My first real ‘situation’ occurred once again in my classroom – I feel at times that I almost lived there! Since I was a child, I had experienced irregularity. No amount of fruits, veggies, or grains could change me, and I just learned to live with it. That sensation increased as the MS progressed, but it was soon accompanied by another doozey – urgency! As I said, I thought it was an upset brought on by worry, but it wouldn’t go away. I’d be teaching, and suddenly I felt as though I would burst. I’d get a teacher to cover, and I’d make a beeline for the teachers’ lav. At that time, I could still move a lot quicker, and I always arrived ‘in time.’ That wouldn’t always be the case, though. Once more, I was on an evaluation trip not too far from home. The school had presented a beautiful opening ceremony; then they took everyone to a nice German restaurant for dinner. The foods were delicious, but ever so rich. As the evening began to wind down, I felt that feeling inside and I panicked. The room was full of people; how was I to escape? Fortunately, one of my team members came over, and I said we’d have to get to the hotel for our opening meeting. Without my asking, she gathered the coats and I could throw mine on and get out quickly. Once in my hotel room, I could take care of the matter. I escaped what could have been a totally humiliating experience.

Those events continued to happen, but fortunately always at home, and I could move quickly enough. Once more it occurred during a field day in my last year of teaching. Again I lucked out in that I could get home in mere minutes, remedy the problem, and get back to the field day. When I was a principal, it happened more and more – after a dinner out with some teachers (I literally had to dispose of my inner clothing, and wrap myself in paper towels,) on a drive home (it was a forty to fifty minute drive,) and once after everyone left for the day and I was alone. After that, I watched everything I ate, and I always escaped the embarrassment that could have ensued.

After I left the work world, I was able to once again time everything, and I was mostly at home. I had to let Hubby in on what was happening, and he often became my savior by helping me out. Now I keep track of when it might occur, and the worst of it seems to be gone – it’s about ten months between events now. I feel lucky that I’ve gotten away without being ‘caught,’ but I realize it could happen at any time. Two years ago, we left a summer party early because I felt things moving quickly, and I knew I wouldn’t make it home in time. I miss out on a lot just to avoid ‘losing it!’

I know that others have probably experienced similar situations, but I often feel so alone with it. I’m a private person in the real world, and I absolutely could never talk about this. However, here in my little virtual existence, I feel I can let it all out and be honest. So this will conclude my discussion, and I’ll go back to babbling about more appropriate topics. Thanks everyone for your support.

Peace,
Muff

from Judy of Peace Be With You


I admire people
whose courage makes them willing
to slay the dragon.

They don’t run and hide.
Jaw set, eyes on fire, they fight.
Best kind of ally.

I am quite grateful
that some of those warriors
are fighting MS.



This concludes the 75th edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on November 18, 2010. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, November 16, 2010.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Carnival of MS Bloggers #74

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

Memory, Language, and Humor
by Mary of Travelogue for the Universe

Proteins and Memory,
are they one & the same?
If so true, it makes proteins
so important in our game.
The shots of proteins like the bee sting
can slow the MonSter that I know.
Is my brain full of complex
Protein strands imprinted with
Memories of long ago?
And will the funding last forever,
Will the protein soup be ever?
Will they some day, find a new way
to deliver protein feed.
To chew or swallow, cook or wallow in exactly
what I need?
For now I take the proteins,
shots really not that bad.
The only way I can, The only way is how
to keep the MonSter
far out on the curb.


by Jenn of Losing It

The day we finally went to the ER was the day I couldn’t put on my underwear and then face-planted in my kitchen, my body contorted on the floor like some sort of crime-scene chalk outline. I thought about how I might be paralyzed and wondered which of my darling pets would start gnawing me first. Et tu, Ella? (Just to clarify: I wasn’t naked in my kitchen. Separate incidents. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)

So we head to Baptist NLR, the closest hospital to our house, and begin the obligatory ER wait. I see the nurse, another nurse, a doctor, and then a neurologist. He is a young guy, but he put me immediately at ease. He was competent, thoughtful, thorough, and Indian. I only point this out because, as it will become clear soon, there was a slight language barrier.

He did all of the standard neurological tests (I know this because I had epilepsy when I was younger). And then he had me walk up and down the hallway of the ER. I say walk, but it was more of a shuffle-lurch I was rocking at that point. I think he knew within the first five minutes what was wrong with me, but, like I said, he’s thorough.

And then we went back to the small ER room. He told us I would be staying at the hospital, which came as quite a shock because I expected to be in and out and on my merry little way. (Why I thought this, I still don’t know. Optimism? Denial?) I just nodded, trying to be the perfect patient, even though my throat was closing up as the anxiety crept in. His words were competing with my inner dialogue, and losing.

I needed to stay for days of observation and treatment, he told us. And I would get on steel rods for those five days, he said. He left the room to get my admittance paperwork started.

“Steel rods?” I blurted incredulously to Nick, my carefully constructed composure now crumbling. “Why on earth would I get temporary steel rods put in me? What good will that do? I don’t want surgery. Let’s leave. I’ll just keep the gown on.”

I was in hysterics.

Try as he may, Nick couldn’t stifle his laughter, which nearly provoked me to start throwing hospital equipment at him (Latex gloves, by the way, aren’t exactly as threatening as they may at first seem).

“Steroids, Jenn. He’s going to put you on a five-day treatment of steroids.”

“Oh.”

I began giggling uncontrollably. Nick joined in, our chuckling filling that small room with the bad fluorescent lights and echoing down the hallway.

And in that moment we knew: Whatever came our way, we’d be OK.


Potty Humor in New Jersey
by Lisa of Brass and Ivory

Folks with MS are not the only ones who find value in appropriately-placed facilities.

 
"Reserved Seating"

"I Have To Pee"
After admiring the handiwork of these signs (and laughing), I just had to document the spottings.  Have you spotted clever signs on your journeys?  If so, please share them in the comments section.


This concludes the 74th edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on November 4, 2010. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, November 2, 2010.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Carnival of MS Bloggers #73

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

A Good Stretch and Tickling the Funny Bone

by Jennifer Digmann

It was eight years ago today – September 28, 2010. Eight years ago that I met Dan and told my mom, “He’s really cute and sweet, but mom – he likes Springsteen. Yuck! And he loves baseball. How boring!!”

Now eight years later, not only am I happily married to Dan, but I’ve seen Bruce in concert six times – loving every one of them. And on our honeymoon, we saw the Boston Red Sox play baseball in Toronto. So it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that we celebrated our fifth anniversary by meeting up with friends from Iowa to see a Cubs game in Chicago.

A gorgeous sunny day for baseball.
What a gorgeous, sunny day for baseball.

Dan, our friends Pam, Steve, D.J., Deb, and I found our seats about 30 minutes before the first pitch.  Wrigley Field, what a great evening!!

Our seats were at the very back of the second tier on the third base side. And if you regularly read our blog or know my life with MS, you know a bathroom has to be part of this story. The family restrooms, the ones I use with Dan’s help, unfortunately were located either on the level above us or on the level below us. Imagine having to wait for the elevator every time you had to go to the bathroom!

That’s exactly what I had to do. But it only took me one such trip before tired of making it. Luckily, we noticed vacant accessible seats closer to the family restroom, which coincidently had an incredible view of the ballpark. So I kindly asked a friendly usher, “How can we get seats like these? You know, ones closer to the bathrooms I use?” He understood my situation and encouraged me to check with Fan Services to inquire about upgrading our tickets.

Long story short: We were able to upgrade close to the family restroom on the first level, which landed us 10 rows from the field right behind home plate! It cost us a little more for these great seats, but it was SO worth it.
What a wonderful view of the action.

And just when the night seemed to be perfect, remember that band-aid on Dan’s forehead I mentioned in my last blog? Here’s the less than perfect way that happened - there had to be a way to get me and my powerchair that close to the field, and it involved me taking a motorized chairlift. In helping to secure my chair to said chairlift, my loving husband stumbled - stupid numb MS feet - and he hit his head hard.

Dan had to be treated by the nurses in the ballpark’s First Aid station. They were quick to treat him (no stitches needed!) and he was back to the game before the second inning ended. Hence his name is now, and forever, on file at Wrigley Field… granted it is in medical records but still, how many of us can say that?

What a stretch!
What a stretch!

The game was great, highlighted by standing with Dan during the seventh-inning stretch where Hall of Fame running back Gale Sayers sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.”

What a stretch!

And speaking of singing, in the eighth inning three ballpark ushers sang “Happy Anniversary” to us and presented us with a ball used during the game. It even has dirt and scuffs on it. What a souvenir!

And what a night for me, a girl who once hated baseball. A girl who doesn’t let multiple sclerosis stand in the way of experiencing life. A great life with that cute man I met eight years ago.


from Multiple Sclerosis & Me by S.S-O

Saturday I had to take my car into Honda.  I got there and the Honda man opened my door.  I told him my usual, "I'll take a moment..." because in addition to just taking my time to get out the car, I was juggling a book, a cup of coffee, the cane, my phone and my handbag.

He said, "no problem...take ur time.  Would u like me to hold something for u?"

I said, "oh yes, thank u"...

 and handed him the cane!!



It Made Me Laugh
by Karen of Meandering...One moment please
 
Two neurologists are hot air ballooning when clouds come up and they realize they're lost. They go lower, and suddenly the clouds part and they see that they're passing over a field where a man is on a tractor.

One of the neurologists leans out and yells, "Hey! Where are we?"

The man on the tractor looks up and shouts back, "In a balloon!"

Then the clouds swallow them up again. The first neurologist smiles. "This has been a great day! We saw good scenery, we put back some brewskies, and now to make the day complete, the first guy we meet is a neurologist too."

"Wait a minute!" interjects his friend. "That looked like a farmer to me. What makes you say he's a neurologist?"

"Well, think about how he answered our question. He gave us precise localization and it didn't help a bit."

******************************


******************************
Going off the SWANK Diet!


This concludes the 73rd edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on October 21, 2010. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, October 19, 2010.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Carnival of MS Bloggers #72

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

The Power of Words and Inner Spirit

by Diana Neutze 
It must be the most consummate
burglar of them all.
At the beginning, the thefts were basic;
walking, dressing myself,
turning over in bed.
But later, it removed my ability
to feed myself, to sing in a choir
and play the piano.
It seems the thieving is systematic;
when I spasm, I either go rigid
like a corpse or curl into a fetal ball;
my very beginning
and my very end are intact;
it’s the life in between
that is being dismantled.

Some weeks ago I had friends around
to honour a young man’s death.
Shubert’s “Winterreise” was sung.
The room was full of beauty and pain;
the human need to give comfort
was expressed by my friends
holding one another in close embrace.

Entrenched in my wheelchair,
like an armadillo,
I sat watching.
I could neither give
nor receive comfort.
The M.S had stolen
my human connectedness.
I was left with only words,
but words were not appropriate.
It was a double grieving
and brought with it the fear
that one day, even my words
might be taken away.

from Pandora's Perspective
I trip

down a corridor darkly

wall-walking the length
and breadth and height
my fingers reach
(when feeling out of sight)
afraid for tomorrow
but searching for
the rest of my life

I may stumble
I may fall
but never will I stop
-- Pandora Deichert

by Laura of Shine the Divine

truth be told
I get used to
going out
joining in
feeling part of
life beyond the boundaries
of my house.
I get used to it.

got used to it
this summer
as we celebrated my daughter's
bat mitzvah
and traveled to be
with family
and friends
so much joy.

but here I am
once again
peering through windows
foggy from a family's morning
of showers
as they prepare
and leave
for a day at school and work.

and truth be told
my legs are too tired
too weak this morning
to take me even out into the yard
to photograph a single leaf.

so I watch the sun bathing
the trees in gold
from my bed
shuffling downstairs with care
to discover
another pleasing view
through the kitchen window.


truth be told
I get used to
going out
joining in
feeling part of
life beyond the boundaries
of my house.
I get used to it.

got used to it.

but like the filtered sun-glow
slowly shifting her spot light
from one stand of trees to another
I cannot expect a body, my body
besieged by an completely unpredictable disease
to remain the same from day to day
moment to moment
my physical health
like, everyone's really
is in a constant state of flux
my husband is busy
my children are busy
I am here at home
with the dog
the cats
the blessed internet
the season has changed
and with it my ability
to venture out more
often.

truth be told
I pretend a lot.
at least it feels that way
when I am busy shooting emails to and fro
scheduling appointments and activities
for my family (a few for me)
filling up our calendar
filling in our story
I pretend that I will be able to attend
everything
I imagine that I will go
that I will feel strong
on that day
I'll be there too
with everyone else
and truth be told
sometimes I will
sometimes

but truth be told
the calendar details
a story that I watch unfold
most often from my bedroom
I have not driven a car in nearly two months
the last *pseudo-exacerbation
left behind myoclonis in my legs
there are days when it does not
happen
there are days when every time I attempt to
stand and walk
my legs do a wild dance
all their own
but will not allow me to move forward
without assistance
will not support me
so I must slowly edge along a counter top
table
chairs
wall
or simply wait
until the shaking
stops.
I cannot leave the house unless
someone comes to get me,
takes me
somewhere
else.

yesterday was spent sending
emails to several people who do not know
my story
they have no idea how exhausting it can be
for me to organize and arrange
schedule and check in with everyone
on the list
and that's as it should be
the not knowing
how could they
know?
they are strangers

and I imagine those who do know
I have MS
simply don't realize
don't understand
that even though I "looked great"
the last time they saw me
dressed well and made-up
or
because I am still fairly
efficient
able to get things done
most days
with my computer
and healthy mind
they don't know
that I am pretending
acting as if
I can do
everything
as though I have the energy
of a typical woman my age
with time on my hands
not working outside my home
time
on
my
hands
how could they know?
I do my best not to make it obvious
I do it for them
for my family
for myself
because
because I still want to be a part of
not apart from
life beyond the boundaries
of my house.

sometimes I create the foggy window.
sometimes I discover clarity.


but there is sunlight
on my hands
across my chest
as I lay in bed
resting
a rest that
cannot restore
the physical energy
that seems to flow right out my scarred
nerves
into my incredibly
active
mind

truth be told
my mind and my computer
help me to
go out
join in
feel part of
life beyond the boundaries
of my house.
I'm getting used to it.

truth be told
last evening Gordon drove me
to a tai chi class
I sat through it
but moved
in fact it felt as though
I were dancing
as my arms reached out
soaring through space
flying
free
though my hips and legs
remained bound to a
chair

there were emotions like
annoyance each time the teacher
instructed us to slow down
my body only does slow
then gratitude
because slow is easy for me
an MS gift that brings awareness
to my movements
sadness and jealousy as I watched
the other women
walking across the floor with ease
but those feelings were fleeting
quickly turning to admiration
and joy
the energy in the room
softening
with the grace of their movements
and my own

and tomorrow night my friend Viv
will come and stay over
she will take me to book-group
I'll be with women friends
I'll
listen
talk
join in
be part of
life beyond the boundaries
of my house.
20 months of practicing
home bound/gnome mound
living
I'm getting used to it.

another secret
to reveal
another
truth to be told
as much as I want
to go and do and be a part
of life beyond these walls
I am often hesitant to
leave the safety
of our house
to be seen
moving awkwardly
to be heard
on days when
the lilt of my
MS acquired
foreign accent
is not pleasantly exotic
because my mouth and tongue
are not receiving the information they need from my
brain
to work together in a coordinated
fashion
and no one
not even
Gordon
can understand my speech
on those days.

and the consequences of going
and doing
are a day or so of "losing ground"
as I float in my bed
exhausted from an excursion
like today.

this is not a page filled with
"woe is me" words,
please don't mistake it as such
this is simply what is.
a sharing of my experience
as I reflect upon my life
this morning
my goodness it's afternoon already.
well
my truth for today
with a small "t".
if my circumstances were different
I might not have time to write
to rest and see my story clearly
to listen to the stirrings of my
heart
or
be
tender
with it.

this is what is.
this is where I'm supposed to be in my life
right now
on this
day.

I trust that this is
true.

I am grateful for the quiet in the house
for this time of reflection
for the range of emotions
rising up and settling back down
like my belly
my chest
as I breathe.

what a gift it is to feel so much, to be able think and shift a view point, view the earth's beauty through my windows and capture a glimpse of it in photographs that can be shared instantly across the world via the internet.

truth be told
I feel blessed.

*I have 2 neurologists, both wonderful. I visited the first one in August after 48 hours of an increase in my symptoms and my wonky leg thing started. She saw no changes in the mri and told me it was just a "pseudo exacerbation". Don't worry, mri looks great. The other doctor who saw me five weeks after the first one and was privy to witnessing myoclonis in action when I stood up, said it was more likely an actual "exacerbation" that didn't show up on the mri because it occurred in old scars, but again not significant enough to change treatment plans at this point, because (thank God) the mri results look unchanged from 6 months ago. Tysabri seems to be working to slow the progression of disease.

This concludes the 72nd edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on October 7, 2010. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, October 5, 2010.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Carnival of MS Bloggers #71

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

Take Time in Life with or without MS

by Laura of Shine the Divine

Heart shaped stones we found walking along the Ashtabula River.

SLOW DOWN! scream my neurons. And what choice do my limbs, my voice really have? None. My mind has a choice to make however; be miserable and angry because this is NOT how I want my body to be or sit, listen, breathe, observe, appreciate, accept the gift of this moment just as it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We are back from our last bit of traveling for the summer. In my opinion, Northeast Ohio is the epitome of slow living.
Rosie driving great-grandpa's 'ol Case tractor with Gordon's guidance
Lily Pond @ my brother-in-law's house
Gazing at the Ashtabula river from one of many covered bridges in Ashtabula County, OH

Friendly clipeared/hornless goat at the County Fair, Jefferson, OH.
So it was sort of ok that my MS decided to kick it up a notch and say "hello, ummm, you know you still have a chronic illness, right?" before we left last week and on and off throughout our visit.
On our way home we stopped at Niagara Falls and enjoyed the majesty of the rushing water.
Gazing at the falls is a timeless experience.

Yet another reminder that sometimes it's best to slow down and witness the beauty we miss when we are rushing.

Driving home from Ohio through New York and Massachusetts gave me plenty of time to appreciate the country side and the skies (it's a 12 hour trip, we brake up into two days.)


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Of course I wish that now that we are home again my MS symptoms would kindly knock it off already!

And with this thought I must gently remind myself about my choices: be miserable and angry because this is NOT how I want my body to be or sit, listen, breathe, observe, appreciate, accept the gift of this moment just as it is.

Sitting peacefully seems like a pretty good idea. I'm feeling deep gratitude as I write this, because truth be told, I am still getting out a bit with a commitment to rest in between. (Haircut yesterday and shiva call for a friend.) Mostly I tell people I'm feeling well when they ask, because who wants to hear "Well actually I feel like crap, but here I am anyway:)" and honestly, overall, I DO feel well much of the time...So I don't think this is another exacerbation in progress, or maybe just really minor one? Because despite the difficulty with speech and walking on and off (can't access words, or make my mouth form them and release them, plus the accent is back and shaky legs that don't want to support me or lift up and move and then just as mysteriously my neurons "come back online" again) Most likely just MS being MS with surprising ups and downs. I know my doctor says this is NOT supposed to happen on Tysabri, except for heat or exertion creating pseudo exacerbations, but I dunno, I've been doing my best to stay cool in our air conditioned bedroom and except for one day when I walked 2 miles a few weeks ago (that was amazing!), I don't think I'm exerting myself. Unless of course hanging out with my teenage daughters, visiting relatives, being pushed in my wheelchair when it's too hot to walk and sitting in a car for hours on end counts as exertion? Maybe. I'm trying hard to figure out the balance of rest and moving through my life. So we'll see. I have an MRI scheduled for Friday evening. (Needed one anyway because of being on Tysabri, so the timing is good).

Thank you everyone for your thoughtful comments, prayers and well wishes. Although I've been horrid about responding, know that I read everything you write and feel immense gratitude for your support.

gentle steps,
Laura

by Maryann

I beginning to believe that my MS took a turn for the worse and I'm afraid that I'm not coming out of it. I had a 3-day course of IVSM the beginning of August. The following week, I had my 12th Tysabri infusion. The following week I had another course of IVSM, and now I'm in the middle of a 2-week Prednisone taper. My tremors, balance, leg weakness and fatigue are all bad.

Through Gentiva, the home health organization, I am now receiving home PT. Their plan is called Safe Strides, and it has to do with balance between your legs, feet, ears and eyes. Tuesday, I had a 2-hour assessment with my PT. Today, she is going to begin working with me. I will have two sessions a week for eight weeks, then I'll be reassessed.

I also will be starting back with my Yoga class next Thursday. We took a break during the summer, and are hoping that we have enough people show up Thursday to make a class. I've taken the MS Yoga for over a year now, and I think it is remarkable. Although, whereas Monty could help me get up off of the floor after relaxation, my legs are too week now to be able to do that. I'm going to need him and another person in class to help me up.

I'm thinking seriously about getting a small scooter that comes apart and will fit in the trunk. I want it mostly for around the house, though. I'm now using my Rollator to get around the house, but I still fall, even with the Rollator. I figure a scooter will be a help and not a step backward.

One good thing, the Celexa is working and my mood is pretty even. I haven't had crying jags or gotten mad at anyone.

We had our son, daughter-in-law, and two grandsons here for a long weekend. Things got a little hectic, as the two neighbor kids came over every afternoon to play, eat, and have fun. A couple of times, the noise and commotion got to be too much for Monty. Every once in awhile, he would go off and lay in the hallway or the kitchen. We had a wonderful time talking, laughing, and playing. They've moved from South Africa to Brooklyn, NY. They took the train from Brooklyn to Lynchburg (a little over an hour from where we live), and we picked them up at the train station. We have plans to meet them in New York City in October, and they want to come to Salem again in December. It is so very good to have them here!


A new website/blog for the MS community.  "These are stories by MS patients for others with MS, their caregivers, friends, and family. This blog will tell the stories of what it's like to have MS--whether they are happy, sad, courageous, or ordinary stories. Become a participant and join in the story telling by contacting Ann at ann67p@gmail.com.
 
This concludes the 71st edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on September 23, 2010. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, September 21, 2010.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

MS Bloggers A-D

MS Bloggers E-L

MS Bloggers M

MS Bloggers N-S

MS Bloggers T-Z

MS Caregivers and Loved Ones

Labels