Carnival of MS Bloggers #109

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

Staying Upright

Depends

by Laura of Shine the Divine

tangled

caught on wires barbed

rusty

vines twist in the cold

sun

small hearts dangle

free

in a momentary breeze

tethered

or connected it all

depends

for the fence offers

support

a place to grow

home

perspective it seems is

everything

MS-behaving... A flare in symptoms began yesterday morning. I'm trying to look at this from a particular perspective... so much depends upon perspective! This has been the longest remission period I've had since 2009 ...almost three months of feeling pretty darn good with Gilenya. I am grateful for the reprieve. We'll see what the doctor says later today, I think she will want to see me and likely do an MRI. Maybe there won't be any new lesions, just an unexplainable reactivation of old ones. Life, I have learned, generally does not go as we plan, it is best to expect the unexpected, open to the possibility of blessings in every moment and wait for them to arrive. I watched the sunrise this morning, golden and glorious. An attitude of gratitude is amazingly healing! Also, the Michael Jackson Myoclonus MoonWalk thing my right leg does at times like this is propelling me forward, typically when this symptom starts up I can only move backward...I'm taking this as a good sign! (Honestly I do feel disappointed and frustrated too, but one can feel this, have a sense of humor and gratitude all at the same time. )

Falling ...

by Miss Chili's Hot Stuff

Yesterday, I fell. Outside. With help. Ow.
It was an hour or so away from my physical therapy appointment. Despite not having gone since, um, December ... after falling that time inside on their throw rug in front of the coat closet ... I sucked it up and decided that I was going to brave that evil throw rug, that it wasn't going to let me down again, ha HA!

So, I got dressed, covering up anything that might need to be covered in this Denmark cold. Brrrr... Did I say, 'Brrrr' already? It bears repeating, as it's f*€&ing cold here.

Once downstairs and out at the street -- which took some time, having to walk from our apartment building past a few more to get to the street -- I rang for a taxi. It didn't take long until one showed up, and the driver jumped out to assess -- maybe that needs a few more 'ass'es in it, and you'll see why -- the situation.

When he arrived, I'd been sitting on the seat of my wheeled walker thing, brakes on and all. I stood up and arranged myself, made sure my hat was on, double-checked that my mittens were still in the pouch attached to my wheelie thingie, and took off the brakes of the wheelie (well, if I have to call it anything, I suppose this will do ... just as long as I don't name it, as then you know that I'm toddling down the road to Crazy Town) so that I could cross over to the taxi, which was parked maybe three metres away.

The driver came over to help me, or at least I thought he did, and maybe he thought he did, too. He put his hands on my wheelie and started pulling and pushing it, faster than my feet could keep up. I wrestled it from his grip once, gathered myself and forged on ... only to have him put his hands on it again, to push it faster than I could keep up with. Almost to the edge of the first sidewalk, I figured that I had to keep on with it.

Between the first and the second sidewalks, there's gravel and dirt and such. I was trying to walk over it, and the driver was pulling me onwards, when ... I don't know exactly what happened, but I tripped or something, and I grabbed furiously for something to keep me upright, but ... it wasn't there, and I fell, partly on the wheelie, partly on the gravel.

There I was, the wheelie partly overturned and partly beneath me, and the taxi driver holding onto it still, saying something about how I needed to stand up straight. Fuck, if I could stand up straight to begin with, I wouldn't have to use this thing to help me walk!

I remember trying to stand, but something happened, I don't know what, but I went ass over teakettle to the ground, hitting my head and shoulder and hip and ...

( ( ( had to stop writing for a while now, just to catch my breath and not cry and such ) ) )

The driver asked me whether I needed an ambulance and, when I shook my head (mistake, as that only made me dizzier) and said that I didn't, asked me whether I was going to keep on going.

This was one of those times I count as lucky and fortunate that the company that Per works for is on the same street as we live, as a man came over to where I was sitting on the ground and said that he'd seen everything and wanted to know whether I needed help. Luckily, he was heading to the very company where Per works (and which used to employ me before all this MS shit kicked me in the head!), so I gave him Per's name.

The taxi driver left before Per could get there, possibly as he was afraid of getting his arse kicked. Yes, he left me sitting on the ground, which I considered to be a well sight safer than anywhere else at the moment.

In the end, Per walked me home, gave me pills to ward off the pain that I knew was coming, made sure I had plenty of whatever I needed, kissed me and rubbed his cheek to mine, and headed back to work.

It's been a long while since I fell outside, but now, I guess, it's a much shorter while. Here's hoping that the whiles get longer and longer between...

*whimper*

N.B. In the midst of all this MS stuff, I'm also having hot flashes. Thence, the fact that, despite the brrrr factor of the weather here in Denmark, my mittens were off.

MS Messes With My Dignity...Or Am I Looking At It Wrong?

by Living with MS? Me too, Let's Talk

I am by nature an upbeat person-but in the 23 years I've lived with MS, I have found that this illness can really have an effect on my dignity. Before MS progressed to the point where it was causing obvious balance, cognitive issues etc. I was an executive and presented myself in a professional manner at all times. As time has passed, I have had to learn that shoes and bags don't "have to match", caftans have replaced my business attire, and I can no longer style my hair or apply make-up as well as I once did...these issues of course, aren't "life altering things" but were always important to me. But, more importantly, MS has made it necessary for me to "re-define" my style.

At first, it truly effected my self-esteem, as I hardly ever felt well "put together anymore". And, during conversations, I can't find words to finish a sentence. I wear a high brace on my weak leg, and it requires not so pretty shoes. Can you imagine putting on a cocktail dress with a pair of sport shoes, haha. I don't think so...

Even though my husband is wonderful and has taken over the household cleaning, laundry etc. I still after all this time, feel so guilty because I don't feel as though I pull my weight, as the old saying goes.

When I use to still drive and would do the grocery shopping, I would be bringing the bags in and before I could finish I would completely wet all over myself. I'd have to go in and shower before I could even think about putting the groceries away.

So, I ask-where is the dignity in that? Darn MS...One of the synonyms for dignity is poise-well, believe me, you can't have much poise when you'er walking with a brace and using a cane-and praying-Dear God, please keep me on my feet...And, as the girl in the graphic, I "do" hold onto walls in the house when necessary.

Well, MS can and has taken quite a bit of my dignity, but it will never take away any of my spirit. I love and appreciate each new day. So, I'll wear my caftans, brace and ugly shoes, but I'll always hold my head high because God has given me this life to live, and I above all else, I want to please him and have him tell me at the end-my daughter you have run the good race...


This concludes the 109th edition of the Carnival.  The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on March 15, 2012. 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, March 13, 2012.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Carnival of MS Bloggers #105

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

Strength, Hope, and Forgiveness in the New Year

Forgiveness and Letting Go

by Kate Wolfe-Jenson of Dancing with Monsters

Whether it's forgiving myself or someone else, I've discovered it's a practice.
I love practice. Have I mentioned that before? Forgiveness is built into practice.

1. I plan to do something. (Intention)
2. I make an effort to do it. (Action)
3. It doesn't go the way I think it "should" go. (Judgment)
4. I let go of my ideas about what should have happened. (Mercy)
5. I reset or re-envision my intention. (Resilience)
6. Repeat.

Watching myself around forgiveness, I have found an unfortunate tendency to get stuck on step three.

I judge. I try to let go, but it really shouldn't have gone the way it did and it's really not my fault, but if I'd only done it differently…

The image that came to mind is of carrying around a stone. I set it down for seconds and then, compulsively pick it up again.

Forgiveness becomes a practice of letting it go and letting it go and letting it go.

What Race Will you Win?

by Dee Dee Vickers

Some days my MS body feels okay -

but other days, in the bed I want to stay.

But get out of bed is a must for me,

cause if I don’t, that’s where I’ll always be.

One side of my left leg doesn’t feel right,

and the right side feels really tight.

But do a few stretches before I arise,

and once I’m up, each day is a surprise.

What challenges will I face walking the pool?

At least 30 minutes of workout is always my rule.

Then home to shower, and “put on my face;”

And now I am ready for the next big race.

Run a race, I think not for me;

but other challenges I soon will see

Paint a picture, arrange flowers in a vase,–

write a poem – these I consider to be my “race.”

We all have a different “races” we face each day;

but stay in bed, those races won’t come our way.

So stiff on one side, ache on the other,

but think of the “miles” we have still to cover.

Yes, it all comes when the sun peeks in at us

and no matter the ills, “just don’t make a fuss…”

The world is our canvas to paint on each day

So get out of bed and be on your way!

Dee Dee Vickers

Georgetown, Texas

January 5. 2012

Untitled

by Natalie of Sunny, With A Chance Of Clouds

To protect a mind too fragile.
And determined by those misguided,
There is a purity that should remain unaffected.
If innocence and love could be spared.

And even though good intentions are meant,
The disadvantage comes to the one.

To become shielded,
Is no escape from that which can not be erased.
One shielded remains confused.
And is convinced truth must be avoided.

One shielded remains convinced...
A running away from any hints of truth is a benefit.

Unfortunate are those forever troubled.
Running away to shelter themselves,
A lie to comfort.
When truth is not enough,
Or which truth hurts too much?

You Can't Be Too Strong

by Marc Stecker of Wheelchair Kamikaze

One of the great paradoxes of dealing with MS: it's a disease one of whose hallmark symptoms is weakness, yet it demands the utmost strength from those dealing with it. From the psychological impact of the debilitating nature of the disease itself, to the shifting landscape of compromises and adjustments the patient must make in an attempt to maintain some semblance of normalcy, to the frustrations of dealing with an often maddening medical infrastructure, to the well-intentioned but misguided efforts of friends and family, to the sometimes heart wrenching indifference of the world at large, MS presents hurdles and challenges that require a measure of fortitude, grit, and endurance that most suffering from it never imagined they possessed. And yet as a group MS patients soldier on, displaying quiet courage and the hearts of lions.

Those suffering from the relapsing forms of the disease must deal with an illness ever lurking in the background, waiting to strike once again and leave them reeling. When each new attack finally subsides, often left behind are lingering symptoms, some weakness here, a little cognitive dysfunction there, distressing calling cards serving as permanent reminders that, despite all outward appearances, trouble resides within. Patients bestowed with the wonderfulness of progressive disease get to experience the pleasure of watching themselves circle the drain, day by day, month by month, year by year. Like the gradual shortening of days from July to December, the change barely noticeable on a daily basis but quite dramatic over the long haul, the disease creeps along an almost imperceptible pace, molehills becoming mountains with the passage of time. The slow but steady drip of the disease can lull one into to a false sense of security, until the guttural realization strikes that some physical action done without a thought only last year has now become cumbersome at best, impossible at worst. Yes, you can't be too strong.

Despite the obvious mettle needed to meet such challenges, many patients castigate themselves for their inability to withstand the ravages of the disease, disgusted with the fact that sheer force of will cannot beat back the onrushing tides. I have a close MS friend who every day fights through crippling spasticity so excruciating it often literally brings him to his knees but still manages, using a variety of disability aids and mobility devices, to put in his day at the office, sometimes forced to drive by using his arm to physically lift his leg on and off the gas and brake pedals (not recommended, by the way), compelled by his overwhelming desire to provide for his family and not give in to the disease. By day's end he can barely make it back into his house and onto the couch, scarcely able to lift his head, but instead of acknowledging his extraordinary efforts, he beats himself up over his perceived lack of toughness, his powerlessness to simply put a stop to the beast that so insistently ravages his body.

I recognize this same tendency in many of the patients I'm in contact with, and at times in myself. I put off the purchase of a power wheelchair for far too long, unwilling to acknowledge my tremendously obvious need because of the complicated psychological interplay of ego, self-image, and sensitivity to how I might be perceived. I sentenced myself to house arrest in a foolhardy effort to maintain an inner illusion of strength, when in fact true strength was only achieved when I finally gave in and reconciled myself to my need and situation. In a kind of mental jujitsu, what I thought was strength was actually weakness, and in turn, the very symbol of weakness, the wheelchair, became testament to a moment of strength when I finally let go and accepted my new normal. Yes, you can't be too strong.

Apart from the strength needed to deal with the disease itself, navigating through the labyrinthine and often counterintuitive tendencies of the modern medicine machine can test the determination of even the most valiant among us. Instead of making things easier on those suffering from chronic disease, it sometimes seems like the deck has been intentionally stacked against us. Trying to make sense of the never ending stream of research and theories about the disease can be mindbending. MS is autoimmune! MS is infectious! MS is caused by faulty veins! It's all the fault of genetics, toxins, vitamin deficiencies, dietary imbalances! Why not throw in out of balance humors, or unfortunate astrological alignments? Does anybody know what the frack they're talking about? What seems crystal-clear one minute is thrown into doubt the next. Up is down, down is up, and all the while I still can't use my right arm and leg, dammit!

The human tendency to become emotionally wedded to a particular idea or orthodoxy often pits patients against patients, in never-ending circular arguments that ultimately may only serve those who are all too willing to make a buck from our compromised circumstances. We must deal with pharmaceutical companies mandated to be more concerned with the bottom line then with patient well-being, and with doctors who are very often under their sway. Never is it more evident that modern medicine is a business than when you realize that most of the MS research news is reported on the financial pages of the newspaper. Desperately searching for something, anything to hang our hope on, we can be easy prey for practitioners of "alternative" medicine, who may be charlatans or saviors, often indistinguishable when cloaked in the fog of the ongoing battle and blinded by increasingly desperate circumstances. The constant clutter of contradictory and conflicting information can seem impenetrable, yet precisely because of this information overload it is imperative that we attempt to keep ourselves informed and clear headed, in order to self advocate in an environment that demands it. Yes, you can't be too strong.

We suffer through the indignities heaped upon us by miserly insurance companies and incompetent practitioners. Can there be a more surreal experience than having to fight with an insurance company drone to try to get an approval for a drug that has the potential to kill you? When I finally capitulated and agreed that I needed a wheelchair, I was greeted by wheelchair vendors who quite blatantly tried to pawn off products that obviously did not suit my circumstances but would do the most to fatten their commission checks, and by insurance company rules and regulations clearly designed to win a battle of attrition in the expectation that a needful patient will simply weary of the fight and take whatever is offered. In order to get a chair with qualities that would enable it to hold up under the rigors of the streets of NYC, I had to repeatedly appeal insurance company decisions, and to whom do those appeals go? Why, the very same insurance company, of course! After months of constant screaming battles, and with the help of the physical therapy staff at my neurologists office, I was finally granted an approval for the appropriate chair, a device the thought of which, at the time, left me slightly nauseated. It might have been easier to try to part the Red Sea.

In closing, I'll relate a story that another dear MS friend of mine recently told me. She requires home health aides to help her through the day, and a few weeks ago asked one to fix her a can of soup. My friend directed the man to the cupboard that contained the soup can, and to a drawer that held a good old-fashioned manual can opener, the kind that clamps to the edge of the can and then opens it  through the action of the user twisting a rotating handle. The aide picked up the contraption and held it in his hands, stupefied. Somehow, this middle-aged man had never before even seen such a can opener, a device I believe I learned how to use when I was about five years old. In startled disbelief, my friend had to instruct the aide, in step-by-step fashion, exactly how to operate the befuddling instrument. When he was done, the aide explained to my severely disabled friend that being a home health aide was only his "hobby", and that he was a financial planner by profession! Given the bang up job the financial wizards have done with the world's economy, it's little wonder a manual can opener fell far outside this man's power of comprehension. Geez, you think the guy might be better off taking up birdwatching or stamp collecting, benign pastimes in which his gaps in rudimentary knowledge might not negatively impact the day of a sick person?

Honestly, you can't be too strong…


This concludes the 105th edition of the Carnival.  The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on January 19, 2012. 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 17, 2012.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

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

Stolen

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.

A Journey with MS

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

Truth Be Told 

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.

Carnival of MS Bloggers #20 - The Invincibility Edition

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

"Strength and Invincibility"

The grass may be greener over there, but I'm more black and blue 
by Jeri of Fingolimod and Me

It was Thursday and Thursday is the day my sister and I meet over at Mom's and have dinner with Mom, my eldest son and his wife, and my granddaughter, and my 10 year old who comes with me.

We were going to go straight there after getting back to town at 6:30 but SOMEbody had to use the bathroom and I decided to check my email. (I am seriously addicted to the internet).

We both get done with our respective tasks and we head out the door, me first. I yell over my shoulder "Make sure it's locked!" and he did.

I looked down at my hand. Uh oh. The keys are by the computer.

This wouldn't have been a big deal had I not relentlessly hounded John into finishing the privacy fence. The only way in was in the back yard and it was a fortress protected by a 6 foot fence with a gate that has 2 (locked) locks.

I look around giving the front yard my best MacGyver I Spy once over sweep in search of how to get over the fence. Aha! There's an A-frame from John's work van haphazardly leaning against the fence, as if inviting someone to climb up and over.

My son climbs up and looks over the other side.

"I dunno, Ma. I think I might get hurt," he says as he comes back down.

"Oh for cryin' out loud" I say impatiently. "Here, let me have that thing." I take the A-frame from him and he points out that our old pool ladder is leaning up against the inside of the fence about 12 feet farther down.

I take the A-frame over to where I can see the ladder between the fence slats. On this side, however, is some construction related material from John's work. Carpet padding, specifically.

I plant the A-frame straddling the roll of padding, sure that it will work just fine even if it is a little wobbly.

Did I mention that we live on an *arterial highway* going through our little town? And this was right around rush hour? Maximum audience.

As I am climbing up, I am thinking to myself "heh. You'd have never caught me trying this last year! I've become darn near invincible! Good thing I wore sneaks instead of flip flops."

And it was right about then, as I had one foot on the top rung and the other poised, mid-air to swing over the top of the fence, that I realized the A-frame was moving and it wasn't a side to side wobble. It was falling away straight out in back of me.

As I fell down onto the top of the fence which hit me right square in the gut, I remember thinking "glad we got that square topped fencing and not that real pointy stuff!" I balanced there for a couple seconds and then began to slide. The fence top caught under my shirt and the rough, unpainted wood proceeded to peel me like a potato as gravity pulled me down.

"YEEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!" was all I could manage to get out as I slid uncontrollably.

Then I realized, to my horror, the fence had scraped right under my shirt and managed to snag under my bra and I was hanging there, in front of the rush hour traffic with my shirt and bra over my head and my feet still off the ground.

Oh. My. God.

So many thoughts racing through my head as my hands worked madly to try and lift my entire body weight off the fence by my snagged shirt and bra.

"I hope my neighbor isn't watching!"
"I hope my son isn't watching...and scarred for life!"
"Man I don't want to find this on youtube!"
"I hope my brand new bra isn't all womped out of shape now! I paid good money for that!"
"That breeze feels kinda nice!"

It was probably only seconds before I was down off the fence. Then I was so busy surveying the carnage that I forgot I had an audience and when I remembered I was frantically trying to cover back up.

So how did we ever get the keys and go to Mom's that night, you ask?

My son, who had fortunately been spared from witnessing the whole tragic act, was around the corner wandering and goofing off, oblivious to it all.

When he saw me crying over my hurt dignity he asked what was wrong and I told him the fence had just beat me up.

He puffed out his chest and strutted over to the fence proclaiming "I'm not letting MY mom get hurt again! I'm going over the fence!" He proceeded to climb with a purpose and was up and over the fence without so much as a splinter to show for it.

He was in the back and out the front with keys in hand before my stomach and chest had even done welting up and bleeding and turning black and blue.

So, there could be one more side effect of Fingolimod that I hadn't considered.

The bottle should say "Caution: May cause feelings of grandeur and invincibility that could cause you to go temporarily insane and make a 47 year old do something that only 10 year olds should even attempt."

or

"Caution, always tuck in your shirt while taking this drug. May get hooked on fence and hang naked in front of traffic. Be sure to stay away from all fences before you know how you will react to this medication."

or

"Stop taking this medication and consult your physician immediately if you find yourself hanging by your shirt from your fence during rush hour with your boobs exposed for all to see. This could be a serious reaction and may need medical attention, especially if scrapes, swelling and bruising develop."

If I have anything to say about what the warning labels will be, that should about cover it.

New symptom. New opportunity

by Michael of Perspective is Everything

Living with a disease like multiple sclerosis, or many others for that matter, can be very unpredictable. One day you feel strong, the next day you don’t. One day you are asymptomatic. The next day you have a new symptom that won’t go away. Diseases are just like life. Every event, every instance falls into one of three categories:

• The things we control
• The things we influence
• The things over which we have no control

I choose to exercise as much influence and control over my disease as I possibly can. Let me explain what I mean by that………

A few months ago, my right hip started to give out. Typically, when this happened I fell down….and I don’t like falling down! I went to see the chiropractor to get an adjustment. I went to the orthopedist and got an x-ray and an MRI. I went to see my neurologist and my physical therapist, too. Since nothing showed up on the x-ray or MRI, the consensus was that the weakness was caused by a weakening of the hip muscles…..caused by MS.

So here is what I did about it: I started exercising my right side. I exercised it at least four days a week. In time, I started exercising my left side too. Now, I exercise five to six times a week. Do you know what happened? My hip got stronger and stopped giving out and I stopped falling down.

About two months later, I started having lower back pains. I saw the chiropractor and the acupuncturist and that helped for awhile. But then, a few weeks later, the pain was back with a vengeance. It was so bad that I could not stand up or walk. I could barely move. At home, I normally use a walker to get around, but for a few days, I used a wheelchair in the house. The chiropractor came to my home. So did the acupuncturist. I was able to move, but only a little. I saw my neurologist and my physical therapist. Again, the consensus was the same: the disease was progressing.

The physical therapist explained it best: my quadriceps (the muscles of the thighs) had become so weak that the way I walked was putting a great amount of stress on my lower back, which wasn’t that strong either. “THAT’S GREAT NEWS” I said. “That’s something I can do something about.”

So I did something about it. I added exercises to my workout to strengthen my ‘quads’, lower back and core. Guess what is happening? I am getting stronger. These new symptoms may be the best thing that has happened to me in these past few years because they have put me in control of how I manage this disease. I am getting stronger, more disciplined and more determined to not allow this disease to overtake me, at least not yet. In fact, the physical therapist calls the exercises we do today “pre-gait exercises.” Pre-gait means “before walking.” Am I going to improve my walking? You bet. Will I be able to walk without a walker? We will see. What I will do is the best that I can.

We may not always have the ability to do something about what is happening with our bodies and our diseases. We can be defeated or energized. We can do all we can to combat what is happening or we can do nothing at all. We can focus on all the abilities that we have lost or focus on all the abilities that we still have. One thing is for sure, we always have a choice in how we respond.

New symptom? Bring it on. Teach me how to respond to it, manage it, beat it and be stronger. It is not easy. But it is my disease, my condition and it is my job to do as much as I can about it for as long as I can……which I plan on doing for a very long time.

Participate. Make a difference. Live a life that matters.

This concludes the 20th edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on October 9, 2008. 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 7, 2008.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Carnival of MS Bloggers #18 - Illusion Edition

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

"Loved Ones, Nuances, and Illusions"

Tricia of Middle Age Mania shares what is like to be
"Married to the MonSter..."

When I met my husband in December of 1997 he was already diagnosed with MS - had been on Avonex for 7 months and had recovered from his first diagnosed MS attack which was a doozy that hospitalized him for about a week. He was handsome, had a runners body still, muscular thighs and six pack abs. I was intimidated by how "in shape" he seemed.

I knew about MS - a close friend of the family had a severe fast progressing case and she went from being fine to being in a wheelchair and then finally to being unable to breathe on her own within a decade. It was pretty scary stuff. I also knew a friend's mom who sometimes walked with a limp when over tired but was fine most of the time. This was the extent of my knowledge about MS when I met him.

There were those who warned me about getting involved with someone with MS. My family was concerned. Friends worried that I was setting myself up for heartbreak and maybe I was but I fell in love and I took the risk.

My husband has R/R (relapsing remitting) MS - he has had a lot of relapses in the last decade but many times his symptoms would reverse themselves after a course of steroids. So the day he woke up unable to control his left leg at all and had to use a walker just to get around? Well 3 weeks later he was walking like nothing ever happened. For us MS was a day to day reality in his energy level but the real serious stuff was usually a passing inconvenience.

The MS was sometimes at the forefront and a very real reason why he could not do something or go somewhere, but many times it was an excuse too. I don't want to go I have a headache. No way to prove or disprove that, I take him at his word. Sometimes he would go out in crazy heat to do things he wanted to do knowing it would drain him and other times he'd beg off due to heat when it really wasn't hot because he just doesn't want to. I find that MS makes a nice tidy excuse to get out of things and yet I never want to accuse him of that because what if this time I'm wrong?

I have never known my marriage without MS as I said above but I did know it before MS was there in our faces daily changing everything. I miss the times when the MS was something that boiled up occasionally and then went back to a slow simmer. About 2 years ago this labor day he had the start of an exacerbation - he had the steroids to halt it but this time they didn't work. He had been on Betaserone for nearly 4 years at this point but it no longer seemed to be helping. He was not seeing a specialist and his general neurologist was way out of his element here. But he didn't admit defeat and send hubby to a specialist, he kept puttering around talking about new possible therapies but not doing anything about it. Finally after almost a year of indecision and inaction on his neurologists part my husband was fed up and asked his primary care physician for a referral back to a specialist. This doctor immediately started the process to get him on Tysabri and took him off Betaserone. He sent him to a physiotherapist to try and regain some of the lost function but it seems that it's gone for good.

My handsome husband with the runner's build has lost about 25lbs of muscle over the last decade. His thighs are thin and much weaker, his abs are no longer rippling. He has a drop foot on the left, no balance at all, and a seriously unbalanced and uneven gait. He can only walk a few minutes at a time before he needs to rest and he staggers as he goes. I admire his resolve to not give up and sit down in a chair and just let it go. I also wonder at times WHY he fights so hard - use a chair sometimes it is just to save your strength. But he is a stubborn Italian man and give up is not in his vocabulary.

He has been on Tysabri for 8 months now. His doctor says he is showing improvement in involuntary reactions. I wish he would show improvements in balance and walking ability. He doesn't feel like he's getting better. I do think his memory loss is better. For awhile he couldn't remember from day to day things that happened or people said. And he wouldn't admit it was him instead accusing the other person of not having told him. This rarely happens these days - if that is the Tysabri I do thank it for that much at least.

I feel like an outsider sometimes. I know more about the disease and treatment than he does because I take the time to educate myself. But no matter how much I know the one thing I can never know is what it feels like, or how it makes him feel. I know how it makes me feel - scared, helpless, alone - and I don't have the disease.

I love my husband and I HATE what this disease has taken from him and by proxy from me. He is still R/R and there is still a chance he could turn around and start getting better but I fear that the best we can hope from the Tysabri is to stop the disease from taking any more. Because it has already taken so much it just doesn't seem like enough. I worry that he will cross over and become secondary progressive, if this happens there is no approved treatment and the insurance would no longer pay for Tysabri. At that point it becomes a wait and see game as in "wait until he dies" basically.

For the overwhelming majority of people with MS it is not a life threatening disease. I worry all the time that the man I married is not in the majority. I keep that worry to myself.

Amy of MS Life of Learning shares an internal observation
in "Silent Clammor"

Today is Wednesday, August 13th. As per usual I commuted in to NYC via the train across the street from my house. Every weekday that I'm feeling well plays out roughly the same way. I walk across the street with stick at my side and my far too heavy backpack keeping me grounded. Exchange pleasantries with the co-commuters while we wait. Depending on the train I find my place- today it is a long car behind the engine, 2nd seat on the left. Prop stick against the wall, assume commuter position.

From the outside looking in, that position is a static one, assumed by the quiet masses. For me it is where the action starts. Depending on that day's distraction -be it the Science Times, the New Yorker, and lately any book by Haruku Murakami- there is an ebb and flow between the read, the thoughts of the moment and the cacophony of the commutation orchestra. All this input is punctuated with the pull of sleep- a not-too-distant memory from a few hours earlier.

The code of silence may surprise the spectator who has never experienced the mass transit commute into a big city. It is a satisfying start to the work day. A collective moment honored by all, and interrupted only by the call for tickets and the staccato of the hole-puncher making its way through the car.

This is the time-in between the quiet clamor of the daily migration, that I, along side hundreds with whom I share the experience, start my monologue for Wednesday, August 13th. Today I feel different. I woke up feeling the dizziness I have felt since December, but as soon as I transitioned from front lawn to platform, I knew this commute wouldn't be the same. While the details on the outside were identical to yesterday's, what was happening on a neuronic level was new. Something barely interpretable, but present none-the-less. Just to be sure I put it to the test. I added flourishes to the action walk up, walk down, walk across repeat. I try increasing my speed slightly and adding a rhythmic jump that I haven't known for some time.

So many take a stairway trip for granted. I've watched how effortless it is for most - not a second thought, never even grabbing the handrail. I haven't had that luxury since I was 20. But today, I added a little skip to my downward trend. Taking a moment to experience that minor change, and relish it later as I write- it's a nuance that excited me for what I might notice on the way home.
Wish me luck.

MS Optical Illusion...Just Because You Can't See It, Doesn't Mean It's Not There...

by Linda of BrainCheese

I'm sure by now you've all seen the famous optical illusion of the old woman/young woman in the above picture? You DO see both images, right? The old woman has a feather in her hat as does the young woman looking over/toward her right shoulder?? If not, keep staring at it...it will come to you...eventually.

I've decided Multiple Sclerosis is like an optical illusion...very little about the dayumed disease is truly visible, and yet we SEE the disease showing up in our every day lives via fatigue, pain, vertigo, visual changes, etc., because we are LIVING with it. All those nagging symptoms that remain most likely UNSEEN on MRI, blood work, or even physical exam are easily identified through the eyes of an MSer. But for those "outsiders" that just catch glimpses into an MSer's life, it is even more difficult to understand what they cannot "see".

I have a strange hope that if they just stare at us long enough (metaphorically speaking or not!), eventually their vision will adjust to what we MSers see on a daily basis...both the obvious and the hidden parts of this disease. It's just a late night thought...

Shauna of Bugs, Bikes Brains tells a story of Shakespeare, King Lear, and Illusions

in "Out Damn Spot!!"

When I got to university, conicidentally the same one my father attended, I chose to take sociology rather than English. I had had enough of trying to figure out what authors were alluding to. However, by my third year, I needed more electives to fulfill my degree requirements and I ended up taking a first year English course from a legendary prof, sometimes referred to as Snapper. I was heavily involved with campus radio at the time and he asked me to produce a radio play our class was going to write based on Gulliver's Travels. That was a blast. He also had us divided into groups to come up with a board game based on Beowulf. That was a lot of fun, too.

Strangely enough I ended up taking more English courses, including 20th Century American and British Lit from my own Dr. Phil and a drama seminar from Snapper. Snapper was so-called because of his extremely dry and quick wit. In the drama seminar we studied a number of plays dating from ancient Greek and Roman times to the 19th centruy. I admit I was lost during much of the seminar, just not able to see through to the deeper meaning of most of the plays. I guess I was too linear in my thinking at the time as my abstract thinking has improved with time.

I don't recall which Shakespeare play we looked at in that class, but the same week we were studying it, a Garfield cartoon appeared in the Sunday comics that made it all clear to me. I've done a brief inernet search and can't find the exact strip but the punchline was "Things are not always as they appear to be".

I had a brilliant moment of clarity. Suddenly, Othello, which I had seen at Neptune Theatre in Halifax in Grade 9, King Lear from Grade 12 and now my university Shakespeare play made complete sense. I took the comic strip to Snapper's office and placed it before him. "This is it, isn't it? This is what it's all about!" You'd think I had just won a Nobel Prize or Olympic medal, I was so proud. Snapper read the strip, nodded, and said, "That about sums it up".

Since then I have enjoyed a few Shakespeare plays, live, and movie versions. After watching Mel Gibson's Hamlet, I asked my mother to make me a cape like the one Mel wore in the movie. I wear it a couple of times a year on chilly fall and spring evenings with a huge, gorgeous, Scottish brooch on the shoulder to hold it in place.

Several years ago I was tutoring a friend's younger sister. This girl was extremely bright but was having difficulty in written communication. We were working on her writing skills for her English course in which they were studying Romeo and Juliet. She was able to identify scenes and acts to illustrate points her teacher had made, something I could never have done in a million years. While working with her, I let her in on the secret to Shakespeare.

Remember Three's Company? Every single episode revolved around a misunderstanding of some sort where things were never what they appeared to be.

My dad's father, my grandfather, gave my mother a copy of Shakespeare's complete works. It's a 100 year old, leather-bound book that now sits on my shelf. I rarely open it as I still find the language tedious to read and the internet makes it so much easier to look up a reference.

The whole point of this post, inspired by Linda at Brain Cheese, is that like Shakespeare's plays, MS offers up as its theme "Things are not always as they appear to be". Some of us are walking, talking, biking illusions. We have MS but don't appear to have anything wrong at all. Some of us have mental deficits that have resulted in having to retire from the workforce early. Some of us have physical deficits that belie the mental acuity we have maintained.

Looking at an MRI filled with lesions of the brain, one may conclude a severe disability. Or one lesion may lead to the conclusion of no disability or even symptoms. But we know that presence and number of lesions don't always correspond to disability. And that's why MS is an illusion, a Shakespeare play. We have lesions we want to be rid of, no matter the amount of damage they do. And that's why, like Lady MacBeth, our universal cry is "Out damn spot!"

S.

This concludes the 18th edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on September 11, 2008. 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 9, 2008.

Thank you.

Comments for this Post.

Carnival of MS Bloggers #12

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

"I have embraced my joy and rejected my fear so, while I am truly present, I accept whatever the future may hold. " - Nadja Tizer

Strength in the face of the unknown - that's something to which I aspire daily. With or without multiple sclerosis, each of us do not know exactly what tomorrow or next year may bring. That is a common truth of living. But sometimes what is perceived as strength may stem from compassion, other times it may be a method of self-affirmation.

"I maintain a positive attitude because I want that reflected back on me."
- Shauna in Keep Smiling.

On the side of this blog is a quote I was kindly allowed to put up by the author:

Anyone who has ever gone through a serious illness has probably been told that they are “so strong,” when in fact, that strength has been mistaken for a patient’s need to not inflict any more emotional pain on those surrounding them.

The reason this particular quote resonated with me is because on the day of my diagnosis and admission to hospital for treatment my main worry (actually, my only worry) was "how are my parents going to deal with this". My mom, I suspect like most moms, is something of a worry-wart. It was bad enough going off to college at 17 in Nova Scotia when my parents were living in South Korea. I knew they were worrying about me. I came down with mono during the second semester but didn't tell them until I was in recovery mode, because if they knew how sick I had been, they'd have been on the first plane, train, or automobile that would get them to me. Two days of travel to watch me throw up? I don't think so.

I honestly wasn't concerned about what MS was going to do to me. I already had known a couple of people with MS and they seemed to be OK. One gal had terrible tremors but she led a very normal life, married with kids. The other guy was somewhat disabled and had a scooter and had taken early retirement but he seemed to be coping well enough. And I literally figured that if I lost the use of the right side of my body permanently, then so be it, I'll get really good at typing with my left hand and start wearing velcro sneakers.

I was concerned about my parents. Firstly, I thought, Mom will blame herself. You know, "I should have eaten better when I was pregnant with you", "We should have insisted they remove your tonsils at 4 instead of waiting til you were 10, then you wouldn't have had all those infections growing up", "I shouldn't have let you eat that bug when you were 2". Then I thought, they're going to be calculating what my expenses are going to be as a disabled person and try to put together some sort of trust fund when they should spend their money on themselves in retirement. (They were just approaching retirement at the time). And then I thought they'll never sleep soundly again.

Mom and Dad were a little freaked out, as any parent would be. But after I called them, they showed up in the hospital to see me an hour later, and seemed put together. Of course, I was joking with the staff and eavesdropping on other patients' conversations in the ER and wondering how long I'd be in the hospital. The Parental Units put on a very brave face. When the admitting nurse came to fill out some forms she asked me how long I'd had MS. I looked at my watch and said, "About an hour and a half". She laughed, my folks didn't. "You were just diagnosed then", she said, and added, "I've had it for 5 years". I just looked at Mom and smiled. [...]


I spoke with a neighbour recently, a very nice, semi-retired widower. He told me about his wife's battle with cancer and how she carried on as normal as long as possible. She maintained a strength and positive attitude until the very end that he marvelled at. "She had cancer! She was dying! She was suffering! It was hard on me, but it was much worse for her", he told me. "How could she have been smiling when things were going to end for her?" I told him that it may not have been as hard on her physically as he thought. "What's harder perhaps is worrying about how your loved ones will react to the news or the event of a death. She was probably concerned that you'd have a hard time dealing with her passing, so to help ease your mind, she put on a happy face". And I told him that I maintain a positive attitude because I want that reflected back on me.

If I lead by example, others will follow. I hope.

Curb Your Reaction and the Face of MS

Newly-diagnosed just a mere three weeks ago, Nina shares her concern over the Reactions she has received when revealing her diagnosis.

I clearly have no problem with people knowing I have MS. I mean, I can put a face on MS that might be different than what you might expect so it’s surprising to everyone I tell. The reactions of others have been interesting to say the least. The reaction to it is really the only reason I considered keeping this private. If I hear another story about how (insert family member) that died of MS, I might explode. The life expectancy for someone with MS is 95% of the time the same as someone without MS.

I think everyone knows one person that has MS and they can’t do normal daily activities. The problem is that there is another three with MS out there doing normal everyday things with no visible disabilities. Those folks are the “normal” face of MS. They aren’t as open because well, they are out living their lives and don’t have time to deal with other peoples emotional baggage. There is no reason to tell me I will be fine or that it’s going to be ok if I am crying. Don’t argue with me that people live normal lives with MS. Don’t invalidation my sadness. I am allowed to be sad. Not only am I allowed but its normally, accepted and ok. Perfectly ok.

With that said, I am a logical soul and realize that I will be fine. I have a wonderful support system and I am still the normal girl that I was before. So your question might be, how SHOULD one reaction to this kind of news from a friend or loved one? Well, I have a few suggestions:

• Keep your personal NEGATIVE experiences about MS to yourself. It’s not helpful, really.
• Research what MS is. I had a coworker later tell me they were reading about MS and I was so comforted by this for some reason. Sort of like he understood what I am or will be going through.
• Allow them to have emotions and sadness. Keep your comments about how it’ll be ok or it’s not that bad to yourself. You are just uncomfortable with sadness and really, sadness is ok.
• And finally, one of the best things that has happened to me is the ability to connect positive people living their lives with MS.

"If not me, then who?"

Exactly!! Thank you Nadja for asking this very important question. Nadja was diagnosed less than three months ago and is already providing an excellent example of how one can concentrate on Living! with MS.

I want people to know that MS has really changed me and at times I want to talk about that transformation.

Some people might ask why I would want to be the poster child for MS, why I would put my life out on display so honestly and openly... I would respond, "If not me, then who?" Someone has to speak. We spend life seeking connections and understanding, how can we understand the range of human experience if no one ever speaks? How can we learn to love and respect our fellow man if we can't even be honest about the deepest, darkest recesses of our being? I remember that my mother told me that I don't have to change the world just because I have MS. I counter again, "If not me then who?" We can't sit on our butts and wait for someone to come along and save the world. We have to take responsibility and do it ourselves.

My mentor also cautioned me about putting my life out on display. To that I said, "I don't give a F--- what anyone thinks." She was very taken aback. I didn't mean it in a harsh way. I just meant that MS has taught me to scoff at fear. I used to worry so much about what other people thought. Now I think, "You can't please everyone, you've got to please yourself (I think that line comes from a Credence song)."

Truly the 'cat's pajamas', Nadja shares a simple thing we each can do to help make life better for those of us who face Social Security Disability Insurance.

Last night I attended an MS information session for those recently diagnosed with MS. The topic for the evening was financial planning and insurance. During the session I learned that many people with MS and other degenerative illnesses are forced to quit their job and then lose their health insurance as a result. If they do not immediately qualify for Medicare or Medicaid they are often forced to apply for Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI).
According to the presentation, "To be entitled to Social Security benefits, a person must have worked 5 of the 10 years immediately before the disability and paid FICA taxes. The disability or impairment must be expected to last for at least 12 months." In addition, "A person becomes Medicare eligible 24 months from the date of the initial application for SSDI-once the SSDI award has been made."

Dear Mr. Legislator:
Here is my question Mr. Legislator: How can the government allow a sick or disabled person to wait up to 24 months for help? This seems unconscionable to me.

I am writing to ask that you provide more funding now for indigent care. I am also asking that you help change the laws that can make a person wait 24 months for the funding and care they need.

Additionally, I would also like to see more funding dedicated to helping poor,uninsured people with MS get their medications. I would specifically like to see funding to pay for interferons that slow the spread of the disease. I would like to see more funding for cortico steroids for those suffering a relapse or flare up of their MS.

Sir, thank you for considering my plea on behalf of those receiving indigent care and the MS sufferers who need insurance immediately.
Respectfully,
Nadja Tizer

*Blog Readers please send a letter like this one to your legislator today.

For information regarding current Legislative Issues identified by the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, please visit the Advocacy Toolkit and look here for tips on communicating with your Elected Officials including Representatives and Senators.

This concludes the 12th edition of the Carnival.

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on June 19, 2008. 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, June 17, 2008.

Thank you.
Comments for this post.