MS and the Pandemic

I was in the middle of ‘retirement’, moving, instructing kids who were new to remote learning, and entering another Texas summer. Like most years, the heat skipped the acclimation period and came in HOT, in what seemed like hours after a late season cool front, adding insult to injury. To say the least, MS had my number, and I was all but ready to wave my white flag.

Jamie and I had worked for years to get to this point, it would have been self-centered of me to give up now. Honestly, No one really expected much of me. I packed half a dozen boxes, and I (obviously) was not moving any furniture. Basically, if I was taking care of myself and staying out of the way, I was being helpful. But staying out of the way is not my specialty. In fact, this was our first move that I wasn’t man handling everything and throwing it onto a trailer while Jamie did last minute packing and cleaning. Which OfCourse means, this time Jamie was doing all the packing, cleaning, and stuffing last minute boxes into the SUV. As well as dealing with my newfound insecurities of not being able to head the heavy lifting aspect of this move. We have some great friends and neighbors who helped us get all our things from A to B. Grateful as I was for the help, I was still as stressed as I had ever been.

We were finally in a house that is all ours. No more stress of wondering if we are going to have to move again in a few years. Jamie and I both did our part to get here. I kept my head down and powered through by keeping my eyes on the prize. Jamie inched through the daunting task of playing office politics and smiling while biting her tongue (not her specialty), finally reaching the point where we could both stop to take a breath and recalibrate.

Jamie did not seem to get the memo, though. Ambitious as always, she dived right into deep cleaning, one room at a time, then going back and painting, one room at a time. My stress and insecurities had reached a ‘fever pitch’. The walker we bought to help me get around during the move had become my primary mode of transportation. I couldn’t stand more than a minute at a time before I had to sink into the seat on my walker. I followed Jamie from room to room, offering little help, only conversation while she worked away making our newly purchased house a home. Conversation though, was minimal. Jamie was focused on finding light at the end of the tunnel, a place where she could find a stopping point so she could finally take a breath and recalibrate, I thought.

I was consumed with thoughts of the rapid progression I was experiencing. When the “miracle” drug I had been on for the past year was showing “less than miraculous results”, my health provider suggested Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). I really enjoyed CBT and the individual I met with bi-weekly to go over CBT exercises and the conversations we had about life with an incurable disease. The logic over emotion idea of CBT was right up my alley. However, when you have multiple falls in a single day and start to realize that your body may not be able to handle many more falls without having serious consequences, you tend to skip logical thinking and fall right into the rabbit hole of pity and self-loathing. I found myself somewhere between “I should start trying harder” and “I don’t give a shit anymore”.

‘Giving up’ was short lived. The ‘fever pitch’ had turned into monotonous days of drinking beer and perfecting the art of napping. After about a month, beer stopped tasting so great, and how much sleep does a person need anyway?!

I realized that Jamie had not had the opportunity to check out the way I did. In fact, she had moved us, freshened up the house to our liking and had done something special for both kids bedrooms. All while working 40+ hours per week. She never had her chance to take a breath and recalibrate. Surely, there are men who are capable of greatness on their own. But, next to most good men stand a woman stronger than him. That is where I find myself, with Jamie. If I ever reach greatness, it is because of her strength to pull me through when I am weak, because of the fire she lit when I needed it, and for still expecting something from me when most everyone had written me off. When she reaches greatness, as she inevitably will, I hope she’s still dragging me along with her, patiently accepting the baby steps of progress I’m working hard to achieve, to stay on the same level with her.

This reflective time really helped to put into perspective how selfish I had been and thrust me into once again ‘becoming one’ with giving a damn.

After the stroke years earlier, I pleaded with God, the universe, Chuck Norris, what or whomever had authority and could deliver, “stop the world and let me off until I can get my shit together and jump back on before it starts spinning again.” I realize my efforts were futile but, desperate times, right? However, I realized that a Pandemic is the closest I will get to the world coming to a standstill. While Conservatives are crying “Hoax” and Liberals are busy taking over the White House, I have been busy leveling up, to face my new ‘Devil’.

Religion will tell you “God won’t give you more than you can handle”, Spirituality will tell you to “Cultivate an attitude of Gratitude,” and the Napoleon Hills of the world will tell you “what the mind can believe, the body can achieve.” On my quest to find value in life, I spent time in each of these belief systems. I took what I held valuable from each of them and used them as steppingstones to reach my own truth, “Action conquers all.” I had spent the last few years stumbling through the mental aspect of this Disease, I now find myself with the emotional strength to move forward and overcome the physical aspect.

Covid, for all its chaos, uncertainty, and fright, has shown me a softer side. It has afforded me the opportunity to find ‘fight’ once again. I stored away my white flag. Not far, but out of sight and out of mind.