Hello, I’m still in here, you might only see the machine that is the physical part of me.
I’m still in here, trapped inside this machine. It is the machine that is falling to bits. The plumbing doesn’t work properly. Sometimes there is water all over the place and other times you can’t get any bloody water at all.
I’m still here. The bits at the bottom of me (oh yes, they are called legs. That’s not what I call them sometimes.) They ache, they just give way sometimes and the whole machine ends up on the floor. They have changed colour. I didn’t paint them. They did it all by themselves. I am sure they have a mind of their own. They decide if they are going to work or not. I just go along for the ride.
I’m still here, other bits don’t work. The thermostat doesn’t work. Sometimes I over heat and other times I am frozen. I never know what to cover the machine with. Summer or winter, I get it wrong.
I’m still in here, you look at me and do not see anything wrong with me. You really could do with being in here with me for a while, then you would see and feel the pain.
I have to wear glasses with special with a special lens to stop the double vision. Seeing one of some things is enough. You don’t need to see two.
I am still in here, the main chassis is not in good condition, it creaks and groans and causes a load of problems. I can’t stand for long, I can’t sit for long. If I lay down then I fall asleep. I can fall asleep great during the day, but at night that’s a different story. I have great problems with lifting things. If I bend down then the world goes round. And sometimes I over balance, down I go onto the floor. I am getting to like some floors, I spend that much time on them. No heavy lifting. What does that mean. When I was fit I could lift all sorts, but not today. I find even carrying shopping bags makes my back ache and I have to lay down. So I don’t carry shopping.
My wife, my soul mate, the other half, she understands but when out shopping the shop keepers take one look at me, a big strapping bloke, and give me the bloody bags. I have to then pass them to my wife. The funny looks I get.
The wife understands. I was her knight in shinning armor. I still am, but the armor has dulled and my sword is a bit bent, I have swapped my noble steed for an electric scooter. My wife does not look at me, she looks inside me where she can still see the me she married all those years ago.
I am still in here, my head aches, sometimes for 4-5 days at a time. I take enough medication I should never get pain of any kind. Headaches are pain aren’t they? Do they know that?
Hello, I am still in here struggling with the fight in here, but through all this my brain still works and works well. I am not thick. I have written this on my computer and printed it out. Doors have closed to me, but more have opened.
Don’t know about M.S? The bloody well ask me!
Written by Richard Christy