Lengthy rant
Life as an Adventure
I'm 59, female, 5 ft. 4in. and weigh more than ever at 140lbs. In 2007 I was DX with RRMS, as of February 2012, I have SPMS. But before 2007, I had a life.... a real adventure.
I'm told that as a child, I grew up with two beliefs. One... 'don't let it be said that I failed, because I did not try'; so I tried everything. And number Two.... what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger; so I tried very hard to be strong.
With those two beliefs ruling my life, my parents suffered greatly, both emotionally and financially. As most parents do, they loved me and coached me, worried about my safety and my well being, supported me and encouraged me.
However, I didn't make it easy on them. Unlike most toddlers, I didn't learn to walk but rather I learned to run...full bore and all out. I was always getting into places and things I shouldn't have.
By the time I was sixteen, I had been in life threatening anaphylactic shock twice, had a broken arm, a broken leg, a broken clavical, three broken ribs, a broken wrist, four concussions, and two skull fractures. My parents (God rest their souls), suffered through it all.
Over my lifetime, I've usually had challenging jobs; I loved learning, and I could learn new things quickly and efficiently. If I could have been employed as a student, I'd have been Employee of the year! I taught myself to play the piano, to draw, paint, weld, wood carve, sculpt, and to take photographs. As I said, I liked to learn, so I read as many books as I could to learn whatever had my interest for the moment.
At one time or another, I was a photojournalist (for 3 newspapers at the same time), a paramedic, a truck driver, a firefighter, a network manager, a taxi driver, a website designer, a pilot, a competive dancer, and a member of a multi-state search and rescue team. I sang in the church choir and at weddings, I was a girl scout and cub scout leader. I was running through life, all out..full bore.
I drove a long-haul semi across country for a couple of years; I've been in all the continental US except Maine.
I was an Paramedic. I could work 48 hour shifts, carry a patient, stretcher, and various equipment up two flights of stairs. While living in the Rockies, I was a member of a mountain search and rescue team. I would rock climb and repel off majestic cliffs. I could fly a plane. I could do CPR, start an IV, give meds and use a defibrillator. I could save a life.
I was a firefighter. I could climb a 2 story ladder on a structure fire and vent the roof with a sawz-all. I could use an axe to break down doors and walls. I could carry a fully-charged 2 inch line into a burning building while wearing 60 lbs of gear. It was a rush, and I had the strength and the will to do it!
During several natural disasters, including Hurricane Katrina, I spent days without sleep. Our team did search and rescue for people trapped in their homes, for bodies lost to floods, earthquakes, and landslides. I loved when we could save people, and cried when we didn't.
Not too long ago, I was an artist. Some of my paintings have been on display at area banks, and my woodcarvings and photography have been on display at the US Embassy in Tanzania. I loved not only the physical part of creating but the thought process behind each work. I had a creative mind that could build something unique out scrap.
I was 'out there'! Not just alive, but 'out there', a part of life, and I could feel it's energy.
Then MS hit me. I had no strength, no stamina. Hell, somedays I could barely walk.
Well, ok, I still have a brain...time to learn something new,time to start a new adventure. Use the 'lemons to make lemonaide'.
I learned about computers and networks. I learned to build/repair computers. I could take small parts and fit them into cramped spaces, hook up a jumble of wires and make a computer come back to life. I understood binary code, and I liked it. I managed a network that provided Internet service to most of the state. I couldn't be in the world, but I was still connected to it, and I made sure everyone else was too.
That adventure ended about a year ago when my brain turned to mush, when I can barely hug my beautiful husband, when my legs became jello and when my life energy drained away.
Now, on a good day, I can shuffle out the back door and lift the garden hose to water the flowers.
Now, on a good day, I can turn my computer on. I can sit for an hour and type on the keyboard and make it readable.
Now, on a good day, I might be able to hold my camera steady enough to take a picture.
Now, on a good day, I might be able to use a knife to cut up a vegetable.
Now, on a good day, I can actually SEE art work and have the presence of mind to appreciate the creativeness and the gift the artist is sharing with us .
Now, on a good day, I can get out of bed and usually remember to take my meds.
Now, on a good day, I can give my husband the attention and the hugs he so richly deserves.
Now, on a good day, when I can think, I remember the 'good old days'. The days of adventure when I could walk without falling, sit without pain, and think without a foggy brain.
But most days, I'm just too tired.
Most days, I feel like I need to be defibrilllated.
I've had an interesting and exciting, adventurous life compared to many women I know. And it is selfish to complain about the pain and disability I have, when others have had it SO much worse and for a lot longer. And missed so many adventures.
I try to remember a line from a song that goes...
"If you could, do you think you would, trade it all, all the pain and suffering? Ah, but then you'd miss the beauty of the light upon this earth, and the sweetness of leaving?"
I don't always remember that I love seeing the light upon this earth, and I don't always remember, that I have, at one time or another, created a little light for someone else.
Not by only being an artist, or a firefighter, or a medic. But just by Being. By being me.
But writing this has helped me remember.
Thanks for listening to my rantings.
Life as an Adventure
I'm 59, female, 5 ft. 4in. and weigh more than ever at 140lbs. In 2007 I was DX with RRMS, as of February 2012, I have SPMS. But before 2007, I had a life.... a real adventure.
I'm told that as a child, I grew up with two beliefs. One... 'don't let it be said that I failed, because I did not try'; so I tried everything. And number Two.... what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger; so I tried very hard to be strong.
With those two beliefs ruling my life, my parents suffered greatly, both emotionally and financially. As most parents do, they loved me and coached me, worried about my safety and my well being, supported me and encouraged me.
However, I didn't make it easy on them. Unlike most toddlers, I didn't learn to walk but rather I learned to run...full bore and all out. I was always getting into places and things I shouldn't have.
By the time I was sixteen, I had been in life threatening anaphylactic shock twice, had a broken arm, a broken leg, a broken clavical, three broken ribs, a broken wrist, four concussions, and two skull fractures. My parents (God rest their souls), suffered through it all.
Over my lifetime, I've usually had challenging jobs; I loved learning, and I could learn new things quickly and efficiently. If I could have been employed as a student, I'd have been Employee of the year! I taught myself to play the piano, to draw, paint, weld, wood carve, sculpt, and to take photographs. As I said, I liked to learn, so I read as many books as I could to learn whatever had my interest for the moment.
At one time or another, I was a photojournalist (for 3 newspapers at the same time), a paramedic, a truck driver, a firefighter, a network manager, a taxi driver, a website designer, a pilot, a competive dancer, and a member of a multi-state search and rescue team. I sang in the church choir and at weddings, I was a girl scout and cub scout leader. I was running through life, all out..full bore.
I drove a long-haul semi across country for a couple of years; I've been in all the continental US except Maine.
I was an Paramedic. I could work 48 hour shifts, carry a patient, stretcher, and various equipment up two flights of stairs. While living in the Rockies, I was a member of a mountain search and rescue team. I would rock climb and repel off majestic cliffs. I could fly a plane. I could do CPR, start an IV, give meds and use a defibrillator. I could save a life.
I was a firefighter. I could climb a 2 story ladder on a structure fire and vent the roof with a sawz-all. I could use an axe to break down doors and walls. I could carry a fully-charged 2 inch line into a burning building while wearing 60 lbs of gear. It was a rush, and I had the strength and the will to do it!
During several natural disasters, including Hurricane Katrina, I spent days without sleep. Our team did search and rescue for people trapped in their homes, for bodies lost to floods, earthquakes, and landslides. I loved when we could save people, and cried when we didn't.
Not too long ago, I was an artist. Some of my paintings have been on display at area banks, and my woodcarvings and photography have been on display at the US Embassy in Tanzania. I loved not only the physical part of creating but the thought process behind each work. I had a creative mind that could build something unique out scrap.
I was 'out there'! Not just alive, but 'out there', a part of life, and I could feel it's energy.
Then MS hit me. I had no strength, no stamina. Hell, somedays I could barely walk.
Well, ok, I still have a brain...time to learn something new,time to start a new adventure. Use the 'lemons to make lemonaide'.
I learned about computers and networks. I learned to build/repair computers. I could take small parts and fit them into cramped spaces, hook up a jumble of wires and make a computer come back to life. I understood binary code, and I liked it. I managed a network that provided Internet service to most of the state. I couldn't be in the world, but I was still connected to it, and I made sure everyone else was too.
That adventure ended about a year ago when my brain turned to mush, when I can barely hug my beautiful husband, when my legs became jello and when my life energy drained away.
Now, on a good day, I can shuffle out the back door and lift the garden hose to water the flowers.
Now, on a good day, I can turn my computer on. I can sit for an hour and type on the keyboard and make it readable.
Now, on a good day, I might be able to hold my camera steady enough to take a picture.
Now, on a good day, I might be able to use a knife to cut up a vegetable.
Now, on a good day, I can actually SEE art work and have the presence of mind to appreciate the creativeness and the gift the artist is sharing with us .
Now, on a good day, I can get out of bed and usually remember to take my meds.
Now, on a good day, I can give my husband the attention and the hugs he so richly deserves.
Now, on a good day, when I can think, I remember the 'good old days'. The days of adventure when I could walk without falling, sit without pain, and think without a foggy brain.
But most days, I'm just too tired.
Most days, I feel like I need to be defibrilllated.
I've had an interesting and exciting, adventurous life compared to many women I know. And it is selfish to complain about the pain and disability I have, when others have had it SO much worse and for a lot longer. And missed so many adventures.
I try to remember a line from a song that goes...
"If you could, do you think you would, trade it all, all the pain and suffering? Ah, but then you'd miss the beauty of the light upon this earth, and the sweetness of leaving?"
I don't always remember that I love seeing the light upon this earth, and I don't always remember, that I have, at one time or another, created a little light for someone else.
Not by only being an artist, or a firefighter, or a medic. But just by Being. By being me.
But writing this has helped me remember.
Thanks for listening to my rantings.
Comment