Jabba the Bieber

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It's been an interesting couple of weeks. 
I've written a ga-jillion posts and not posted them.  No point really.  Same old story - I have MS and had an exacerbation.  Blah blah blah.  I finally feel good for the first time in weeks.  I'm not even sure that I feel good  LOL  but it sure as heck beats the recent past. 
I look terrible.  No.  Really. It's ok but yuck.  I'm puffy all over, thanks to the high-dose steroids, and my skin is like leather thanks to the dehydration.  I managed to get thrush and esophagitis [thus the dehydration] and, thanks again to the steroids and NSAIDS, a GI bleed.  Pale, puffy, leathery skin and my hair is falling out by the handful, again thanks to the high-dose steroidsI feel soo kiss-able. I decided to buck up and get my hair cut into a style that would mask how thin the top was getting.  I hated the idea of getting it cut but looked forward to something, ANYTHING, that would make me look better.  Cleaning up the long strands that were plaguing every surface in my house was the deciding factor.Unfortunately my hair looks nothing like the pic of the modified bob that I took in.  No way in hell I'm posting a picture but think  'love child of Jabba the Hut and Justin Bieber'.  If 'pretty is as pretty does' dictates how my hair should look then I deserve this haircut.  Last week I was hell on wheels. My temper had a short fuse and most everything set it off. 

There's good news.  I feel pretty darn good.  I really dislike the haircut but have to admit it's so much easier to take care of.  My energy level is a lot better, enough so that yesterday I got groceries and met Terry at the golf course for lunch.  I haven't put away all the groceries [just fruit and what not that need to be cut up] yet but the laundry is all done.  I put the snowman collection away.  After all it IS March . . .  in Arizona.
I met with the neurologist on Tuesday.  I really like this guy.  He validated how I had been feeling.  Offered me a few tips in how to deal with things easier next time [including agreeing to treat me for thrush prophylactically]  Told me I don't have to explain - he gets it.  Any idea how much time I spend trying to figure out how to explain the illogical symptoms?  Being able to not explain?  Relief.  I hate the idea of sleeping my life away but upon his suggestion will accept that napping is not caving in and will undoubtedly make it easier on the people around me.  Seeing how happy it made Terry and Ella for me to ear that hot dog was touching but sad to see how really worried they were. I'll even cave in if it makes it easier for them next time.

I'm reading a book that is helping.  The one that introduced the idea that 'change does not mean game over'.  Today's relection is to recognize and differentiate between 'reality' and 'imagined reality' .  Sounds really simple, doesn't it?  I'm finding that there's a fine line between being prepared and allowing that preparation to overshadow the happiness of 'now'.   For me that latter falls under 'imagined reality' because reality is that I am feeling pretty good.  The trick is going to be hanging on to that without strangling the life out of it as I hang on.  The fear of repeating the past few weeks is overwhelming to the point of inertia - I have to let that go. 

I'm heading towards ok even if I look like Jabba right now.  It's longer today than it was yesterday and it will be longer yet tomorrow. 
There's an analogy in there somewhere :-)