Hi, I'm Aitch and I have some stuff to get off my chest.
First, I've lived. I've lived a lot. I've visited close to thirty countries, lived in five countries, got a BA and a MA from two kick ass universities, danced on bars, slept on beaches, made out with loooott of guys, married the greatest guy and gave birth to the two greatest kids. I have never been one to not live life to the fullest.
Until recently, that is. See, I'm disabled. Completely, absolutely, no way to hide it - disabled. I can't walk, I often require my husband's help into or out of the shower, sometimes my legs won't bend and my muscle relaxers don't work so I have to wake him up to roll me over in bed at night, I'm starting to get a hump on my back because my once perfect posture has been felled by a lack of core strength, I can barely write anymore because I'm right handed and my right side is my bad side, and I am always, always, always worried about pissing my pants. I own a cane, a walker, a wheelchair and a scooter.
I'm forty years old. Not eighty, not ninety, not 102. Forty. Forty years old and my mom, who also has MS, can run circles around me. I am, if not the worst case scenario, definitely a warning or bogeyman for others with MS.
It sucks, but there it is. I've put it out there, now on with the rest of my life.
