Blog Knockin'

Wellll, tonite finally did it. Tonite has knocked the blog right out of me. I'm back sports fans. And after the night I just encountered, I'm back with a vengeance. First, to those who have been scouring the obits for my name -- I AM ALIVE! Why the hiatus? Vacation perhaps? Sabbatical? Nay. I have been in a very dark place.

So dark in fact I haven't felt like writing. And for those of you dear readers that truly know me -- you know that must mean DARK! Usually I try to make lite of the grimmest of situations I find myself in. Usually I fuse sarcasm with attempted wit and poke fun at my debilitating, crippling disease. Usually. But not as of late.

Why so long getting back in the saddle so to speak? Why bring you the audience down with me? That had never been my intention. My intent had always been to share with you the ups and downs of this horrendous disease. You surely know more now about MS than you'd ever wanted to, right? I know I do!

This blog began as a journey to LIBERATION. Trouble being the light at the end of the tunnel had been snuffed out. Why keep writing from complete darkness? "I have been inside your veins," professed the Doctor. "There is nothing out of the ordinary in there." Fine.

Next the Low Dose Naltrexone battle. We won the battle but not the war. He prescribed it, BUT it hasn't showed me any improvements. As a matter of fact I'm still getting around terribly. And after two rounds of high dose oral steroids -- NADA. No improvements. None. Unless weight gain and acne can be counted as such.

Enuff with excuses. I've been here all this time. Just uninspired to write, until this very moment. Until this very night. So here goes nothin': What to do? What to do? Jason out of town. And the in-laws out of town. Not the most ideal of situations for me to be in, BUT as I've said before . . . I'm an Orth. I got this! Wellll, tonite -- not so much. Not without the help of another Orth.

I'm not sure where I left off. But Asa is shaping up to be one hell of a football player. Abel too really. I'm so proud of them both. And of myself having only missed one of their practices. And none of their games. No joke. I love it so much I'd crawl on all fours to make it there. How embarrassing for them, right? I know, but it's football. Priorities!

Anyway tonite Abel had a scout meeting at the fire house and Asa had a football practice. Both wanted very badly to go to their own things and I wanted to make it happen. I rested all day in hopes I could make this happen. Logistics be damned! I got this. Cha, right?! First was supper. Use of the oven not my brightest of ideas. Heat = baaaaad! But the lasagna was a hit. Not a homemade hit, but for a frozen Stouffer's deal -- not so bad.

Then getting them and me ready to go. Asa, bless his soul, dressed himself pads, gear and all. Abel would need his scout uniform thrown in the dryer a bit to get the wrinkles out. Another baaaad idea. Heat from the dryer is the worst. Yikes! Wasn't aware until now that this disease apparently causes permanent brain damage. I mean c'mon Angela -- you know better than this stupid shit you are doing! Buy a clue already.

So Asa offers to help me outside with my walker and Abe finds the missing keys to the truck. Great. I'm all hunkered over and barely walking, but . . . great! I was at this point still upright and hopeful. Once at the rear of the truck I lowered the tail gate as Asa stood and held the walker. As I open it out rolls an empty water bottle. And my earth friendly son goes toward the street to fetch it. "No!" I yell, now leaning over the tailgate just to stay standing. "Help me get this walker folded!"

Welllll, he obeys. But to my surprise the french fries and various other trash from last weekends excursions remained inside the storage compartment below the walkers seat. No biggie besides the fact that the compartment must be empty to allow the walker to fold. Should I sling the trash to the curb with the water bottle? Nah. After all this is Park Ridge. What would the neighbors think?

I have Asa return to the house for a trash bag and bless his heart he obliges but returns not having shut the front door. That aside, my legs are growing weaker by the second. And I still had a walker to lift. Up, up and . . . DAMNIT! How as the walker to fit with the fishing poles? I pray I didn't harm the poles, BUT the walker, especially at this point, had become a necessity.

Abel back in the house to fetch Asa's helmet and slam the front door almost shut and off we'd go. Welllll, almost. Anyone ever try getting in their respective vehicle with a jacked up floor mat? No biggie, right? WRONG! Wrong especially if it's a big heavy rubber truck mat -- wrinkled and crooked. And that's not all folks. Trash restricting it's return to proper placement. Grrrr . . .

I know you're thinkin' "quit yer bitchin', bitch" but I reply, "BITE ME!" My legs already feel easily 100 pounds or more each and my overly weakened remainder of my uncooperative body, welllll I'm too tired now to even explain. Just enuff of my right ass cheek met with the seat to allow for some grunting and cussing and hoisting and eventually I was ready to go. As ready that was as I'd ever be.

Both kiddos nervous, and mom a little too this time, off we were in to the wild blue yonder. Chit chat about driver safety and school goings on commenced as I concentrated fully on lifting my almost completely worthless right leg to brake and/or accelerate as needed. By the time we'd reached Moll's I had thrown in the towel and started using my left leg. Better, I suppose, but still very odd.

And just to add to the thrill ride as we turn on to Tile Factory Abel proclaims, "There's a bee back here, Mommy!" Yay! Mommy loves bees.

But my eyes are growing weary now. Great. I guess I'll continue this rant tomorrow . . . if my eyes will let me. And my fingers cooperate. More to come . . . I hope! Later.