Well, This Sucks: MS Attacks My Legs

As I wrote about a few days ago, I took the kids to the Oregon Zoo. We all love the zoo; it's a lot of fun. It's also a LOT of walking. And apparently, this pissed my MS off to no end.

Ever since we came home from the zoo, I have been in constant pain in my legs: burning, aching, awful pain, marked with the occassional horrific muscle spasm. My Baclofen is not helping with this at all, and my pain meds are useless. I can barely walk, and when I do...the pain is unbelievable. It's been 3 days, and I still feel just terrible. I called my doctor, and she told me to "rest it off." Look, lady, I've got three kids (a special-needs child, a kid whose asthma is acting up and a toddler hell-bent on destruction)..."rest" is easier said than done.

The last time we went to the zoo, I forgot my cane, and my legs hurt a little...for a few hours. I chalked it up to a lesson learned, and took my cane this time. Apparently, it was not enough. I am actually going to have to rent a scooter there next time...and that smarts.

Don't get me wrong...I am not unrealistic. Ever since I began losing feeling in my right leg, I've known that my mobility is a fleeting thing. I fought it, tooth and nail. I'm not even sure why, to be honest. But I hated, loathed, despised the idea of a cane. Eventually, though, I gave it a try, and discovered that I could walk further, and longer, with it. So for the past year or so, I've rarely left home without it.

But now it seems that the cane isn't enough for big hauls, like the zoo. Or our planned Disney excursion.

Is it pride? Vanity? I'd like to think that I am not particularly prone to either. But something in my general make-up just cringes at the idea of a wheelchair. I've known it was inevitable for some time...but I always thought "some time" would be years and years from now. I was wrong.

And I know it's only an occassional need, now. Hopefully, it won't be an all-the-time need for years to come. So why am I being such a pain in the ass about this? Isn't that really just making it harder on myself? Why can't I just see it as a reasonable medical need, something that will make my life easier and more enjoyable? Why do I persist upon seeing it as a negative? As an enemy?

Well, nobody's perfect...and I'm willing to bet lots of people have felt the same way I do, when faced with mobility limitations.

Knowing that doesn't make it easier, though. It should...but it doesn't.