a history of illnesses
a history of illness
at 16 i hurt my back not personally with a stick or a mallet or jumping up and down but i grew. however i didn’t grow enough so my back bones curved a bit to fit in to the size i was. i wish i had grown as tall as my sister she was 5’10” those extra 4 inches would have made all the difference (so they say)! temporarily i thought it was a great ruse as i got off games to go to the physiotherapist every wednesday for months – yippee.
to cut a long story short at the same time it started with blackouts: DEPRESSION the dreaded lurgy the unseen unspeakable undesirable illness but nobody likes to admit to and feels ashamed of. so be it – end of story or at least it doesn’t end – accept it, deal with it however you like.
then 16 years later as my black depression threatened suicidal thoughts post divorce I started having pins and needles, dropping things and stumbling with bad balance, so that my physio and doctor both suspected ms. due to my mental health instability they fortunately held off telling me. 3/4 years later, when I could not walk up the hill to my three storey townhouse, i was sent to the national hospital for neurology and neurosurgery (known as ‘the national’ or nhnn now part of uclh) where i went for a week’s tests. it ended with a lumbar puncture ** confirming the diagnosis of multiple sclerosis – MS
my first thought ‘wow i’m lucky’ as in the middle of my week i had not only got a provisional diagnosis but I was given the weekend off from snoopy the blood wagon lady -the phlebotomist. so i went with my friends to a long booze up on friday evening, a precursor to their wedding the next week.
the first and only time i got breathalysed was 1 o’clock in the morning in a toyota 1300 with 3 boozers on board going uphill towards berkeley square in london. how the unmarked red car -policeman- chose me outside the night club instead of my friends, who were following close behind in a white porsche with a bottle of sambuca and one of brandy on their knees, is beyond me. with numb legs and feet i almost fell over as the officer moved away, my foot had been on his hobnail boot, he warned me not to drink any more ‘fizzy water’ inside the nightclub because they would be waiting for me on the way out! i wasn’t wishing to meet him again only to go to west end central (police station for drug checks!) with both arms full of needle marks.
that was 33 years ago
** mri diagnosis (vs lumbar puncture see next page soon)
Other blogs to follow – i hope
- diet, exercise & treatments
- alternative therapies
- little things no one tells you about disability
- spasticity & the ITB pump
- no fear double incontinence
- care costs later on
- q&a if you want to join in
nowweare66 