Cognitively, I feel like I’m back on my game. Physically, I’m sore and achy, but I can deal with that. According to my doctor, sore and achy are very minor side effects when beginning Rebif (my interferon MS medication). Things are going well, really well. My health is stable at the moment and I’m making every effort (almost) to keep it that way. The almost refers to my slide back into carbs.
He’s trying to keep me as I was, or what he thought I was. He’s trying to help, but still doesn’t really know what that entails. He’s trying to understand what I’m going through, my mood swings, my silence, my desire to run. It’s difficult right now.
Close friends and family’s perspective:
My guess is that they see that I’m struggling, but trying to keep a brave face. They want to help, but really, what can they do? Just keep talking to me. That helps. A lot.
Everybody else’s perspective:
I can see. I can walk, talk, drive and answer “not bad” when they ask how I am. So… to the rest of the world it appears that I’m fine. Nothing amiss. From their perspective I’m the keen mom who loves to participate and take on new challenges.
At Cubs last night, once people heard that my vision has returned almost to normal, they seemed to think that it’s all better. That somehow I’m through with MS. Cured. Wouldn’t that be nice? I wish that were the case.
It was been implied that I should be taking on the same duties that I had initially planned on when Beavers wrapped up last spring. You know – keep my word. Okay, they’re right. I had planned on being a Cub leader and continuing my role as the popcorn fundraiser co-ordinater. But a lot has changed since then. Last night one of the leaders who is normally quite chatty and personable, completely ignored me, refusing to acknowledge my presence when they walked past. I’d like to think that they’re not aware of what I’ve been going through, but they do know. I realise that they’ve been put under more of a load because they had to fill in because the group is short by one leader and they’ve been burdened with handling the popcorn fundraiser this year, but can’t they understand that I need to focus on my own health right now? Sorry, but they’ll have to enlist someone else’s help this time around. Give me a year or so to get my bearings.
Now I feel guilty when I shouldn’t. I have every right to focus on taking care of myself. I have every right to focus on my family. I’m finding it very difficult not to be angry. Hell, I’m finding it difficult not to scream, not to be bitchy, not to tell the world to to f*** itself.
So, after my rant, of which there seem to be many these days, who am I from your perspective? Likely, I’m now the cranky bitch digging her heels in.