I never told anyone about my big toe. I don’t mean the nailor the padded bottombut right at the tip – the part that sometimes stubs itself on a wallthat part. Sometimes it feels like a thin needle is pricking that partentering the skinand that the needle is maybe hooked up to some electrical device that is sending a tiny shock through. It’ll happen a bunch of times inside of a minuteand then it’ll go awaybut what remains is a strange awareness of the tip of my big toethe skin and the bone. A feeling of it having been invaded. Have you ever been out at a cafe with friends and also actively thinking about your big toe? Unless maybe you were breaking in a new pair of shoes and a blister was forming?
It’s a strange something to consideryour big toe. Today when it happened I found myself fondling the handle of my tea cup and simultaneously grinding my toe forcefully down into the bottom of my shoeover and over. Something about purposefully creating my own intense sensation in that spot relieves the feeling that a mysterious force is having its way with me. The grinding gives me back the controlor so I like to believe. Though I wonder if those of us with MS are just forced to live closer to the truth – badgered by little needles in our toes that remind us that we never really were in control. Today my illness finds mereminds meand we duel while I drink my tea.