It’s M.S. Awareness Week and I’ve been doing my best to educate those around me about life with M.S. I had to take a step back earlier this week though, to re-educate MYSELF about life with M.S. Apparently I’ve forgotten that when a person with M.S. does just a little too much, she may fall ill. She may catch a death of a cold that lasts for more than a week. She may miss her very important Tysabri infusion due to being under the weather.
She needs to remember to button her coat (not just to wear one). She needs to remember to allow herself sometime, anytime to rejuvenate (despite the fact that God still hasn’t added two or three hours to the 24-hour day). She needs to be more cognizant that she has M.S. (yes, sometimes it slips her mind and she thinks she’s invincible).
Obviously I thought M.S. Awareness Week was only in place to educate others. Yes, I know now that I’m sorely mistaken. So, without a hint of a voice, with the sniffles and coughs not letting up one bit (we’re heading into day 8 tomorrow), with a boatload of work that just has to get done (but really could wait just one more day), the hubby and I are headed off into the woods for the weekend.
Perhaps I’m hoping some sap (no, I don’t mean the hubby) and smells of trees and spring buds will help heal this cold. Perhaps I’m hoping a night away with the hubby – away from the drama that has filled our lives for weeks now—will help heal my tired spirit. Perhaps I’m hoping that meeting my new puppy-niece “Zettie”—will help heal my soul.