I am an adopted, multiple sclerosis-suffering, card-carrying Mensa member with the perspective that life is a roller coaster ride and miracles can and do happen. And I have a huge sweet tooth (see photo).
Mine is a melding of a Cinderella story with The Little Engine That Could. It is a tale of how, despite everything, I always emerge smelling like a rose—or at least, I resculpt the pile of shit I’m in to look like a rose. I like to think of myself as a phoenix, constantly burning up then rising from the ashes… In my story, I conquer all of the obstacles I face with grace and humor (eventually) and using the inevitable wisdom I gain, forge ahead regardless of the stumbling blocks thrown in my path. On my journey I learn a lot about myself, as well as the human condition. Like my own personal “Behind the Music” episode, “How I Got a Horse Out of a Toilet” is a collection of true stories from my life, both the good and the not-so-good. It is a collection of my personal trials and tribulations, victories and defeats, and miracles I’ve witnessed on the way….
When I look back, sometimes I’m dismayed and frustrated by things I can’t do today that I could do years ago (or even yesterday). I then consider how much I’ve lived through and what a strong person I have turned out to be. Conversely, I’m troubled to look ahead too far, scared of what I might see in the future. Ultimately, I’m impressed by the strength I never knew I had and I know, no matter what the future holds, I can handle it. If anything, MS has made me better (in ways that matter) — perhaps to compensate for the physical losses I’ve suffered. I’ve always been a strong person. Maybe I had to become bodily weakened, physically disabled, to strengthen my soul’s mental, spiritual and psychological senses. I had to learn it’s OK to ask for help, that it doesn’t mean I’m weak; it’s actually a strength. I’ve learned never to take ANYTHING for granted; you never really miss something ’til it’s gone.
I’ve learned to (and HOW to) be my own advocate, when I frequently used to let people take advantage (I never felt like I deserved more than that). I’m closer to knowing, and asking for, what I want and need. Certainly, these improvements are in varying stages of development; I don’t think one ever perfects them, but at least they’re now in play.
I’m not easy to partner with (whether it’s for friendship or romance, I tend to be pretty challenging as a matter of fact), but life with me is always worth every struggle and so is riding shotgun with me. Giving up on things or people (or myself) is very hard for me. I hold on like a Titanic survivor to a lifeboat and only let go when they are pried from my cold, numb grasp.
I believe everything happens for a reason, exactly the way it is supposed to. If we can’t find our reason, we are merely players in other peoples’ reasons. Yes, you could call me lucky, despite my illness. In fact, I often liken it to winning a lottery of sorts. MS has opened doors for me that I wouldn’t have even been aware of without it. Not many people can say they’ve accomplished one of their dreams, let alone several, like I can. But not many are willing to make the sacrifices required to do so, like I have.
I’d like to invite you to accompany me on some of my most remarkable journeys. I only ask that you comment and critique. One day I will take everything, edit as YOU suggest, apply some order to the chaos of these stories (ALL TRUE!) and pursue publication. I thank you for your attention and time.
|“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.”
|– Albert Einstein
Please invite your friends!