Sometimes, having multiple sclerosis can lead to some awkward social situations.

And attending a recent party was no exception.

The setting was a lot of people, loud music, in a small space—typically, the perfect scene for your average social animal.  But add MS into the mix and you get the hijinks of a bad episode of “Three’s Company.”

Disclaimer:

Let me begin by saying the party hosts were MORE than accomodating to my situation.

They frequently asked if I needed anything– it was my own bull-headed refusal of special treatment that forced the issue.

We now return to My Odd Sock, already in progress…

When you have MS, and you can’t sit—you lean.  Leaning against a counter, a table, a door frame or a bosomy party-goer gives you the extra support you need.

"Prop me up before you go-go"

Leaning against a wall worked well for me for a while.  But because wall space was a limited commodity, I found a door to lean on.  Trouble with this was obvious–doors open.  So I found myself in the way of the opening door.

In fact, wherever I stood it seemed I was in the way.  Standing by the food–by the drinks–by the trash–by the bathroom, getting around me seemed as difficult as passing a semi-truck on a two-lane road.

Of course, having a “three-point stance” (Cane & two fumble feet) wider than that of an offensive tackle—it’s difficult NOT to be in the way!

Is that a chair or My Odd Sock at a party?

I had to move around a little bit for two reasons.

One, to keep my stiff legs from becoming stiffer like volcanized steel.

And two–if I didn’t move, people would start hanging their coats on me!

Finally, I noticed some open counter space, so I made my move to lean there.

That’s when I met my friend.

We introduced ourselves and exchanged the usual idol chit-chat.

“So, what do you do?” he asked.

It is a question I still grapple with, but I answered anyway…”I’m on disability.”

“For what?” he asked.

“I have MS.”

(Trombone sound effect)…Waah Waaaaaaaaah.

(Robot voice)…”C-O-N-V-E-R-S-A-T-I-O-N   K-I-L-L-J-O-Y”

Just call me “Little Dougie Downer” because at that moment the air in the room was sucked out with the woosh of a Hoover!

My friend could only muster a weak “Oh……..that’s bad” before quickly fleeing to find more uplifting conversation with another guest.

Yes, the party scene can be awkward, but it’s a neccessary part of our acceptance of the disease.  We must learn to get on with our normal, everyday lives and make the best of every situation that falls in our laps.

We, as MSers, are a tough breed.  We’ve dealt with a lot.  And we can handle the extra-helping of chaos that life sometimes serves up.

Party on, Wayne.

Party on, Garth.

A Message from the Editor

This edition of My Odd Sock has been rated “S” for “serious.”

The usual low-brow humor has been replaced by a lot of wah-wah, belly-aching chit-chat and visions of the world’s smallest violin playing “My Heart Bleeds For You.”

–Helen Eleanor Saggybags,  My Odd Sock Editor-In-Chief

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

My doctor didn’t mention it.

I didn’t read about it in any book of multiple sclerosis.

Nor did I see it mentioned in a magazine or on the web.

When I was drafted to receive my MS diagnosis way back when, I heard about mobility and spasticity, bowel & bladder control, balance, vision and cognitive function—those I could handle.  But it was the unmentioned condition I had and continue to have the biggest problem wrapping my arms around.

It’s the doubt!

The cloak of MS doubt.

Multiple sclerosis has covered my big, melon head with doubt.  A darkness that has caused me to doubt my abilities..and my self.

Doubting my role as a spouse, a parent, a provider.

Doubting kicks in when people begin to do chores for you–things like cleaning your gutters or cutting grass–things you USE to do.

Or when your spouse gets a second, even a third job job to make ends meet.

When you can’t bring in the groceries.  And when you can’t help at a school function, doubt is always there to console you.

Doubt is definitely the unsung bastard child of MS!

Doubt zaps your confidence like humidity steals your energy level.

I can use a cane to help with my balance.  A wheelchair to help with my fatigue.  But there is nothing to help one through a spell of self-doubt.

So I write about it, hoping you’ll lend some words of wisdom to me and others who are dealing with the “doubt” that comes with MS.

Although it can be a daily knock-down, drag-out, I’m beginning to peek out from under the doubt and getting on with life as an MSer.

Some days are easier than others.  But that’s typical of our disease.  You have good days–and not so good days.

I try to focus on what I have, rather than what I don’t.  How lucky I am, instead of unlucky.  How fortunate…than not so.

Yep, doubt can be one tough pill to swallow.  Maybe that is why they don’t mention it.  Some things you just have to figure out on your own!

What will you find in the My Odd Sock Mixed Bag?

Who knows!

Actually this mixed bag is a collection of various ideas I had about life with multiple sclerosis.  They are simply blinks of an idea—not enough meat to serve as a main entree–so I just lumped them together in a pot luck post.

So lets reach into the mixed bag and see what we can find…

Give me a B.  Give me an O.  Give me a T-O-X.

Last week was my quarterly appointment for Botox injections in my legs to fight spasticity.

The shots in my calves & inner thighs offer a three-month reprieve from muscle tightness, spasms and cramps.

Botox injections are the only shots I LOVE to receive!

Not only does the Botox help control my MS spasticity, it also makes my legs look younger.  Check out these before & after pictures…

Before

Before Botox

After

After Botox treatment.

Hot And Heavy

I don’t have to tell you about how the summer’s heat & humidity are kicking our butts.

It feels as though my feet are wading through oatmeal with each heavy step!

Hulk Hands

And my hands?  Cripes, it’s fumble fingers to the Nth degree!  Forget those fiddly buttons on a shirt.  Plus, my text messages have more misspelled words than a five-year-old’s Christmas list!  (Damn small buttons!)

Even holding silverware can be a challenge when you have “Hulk Hands” due to high temps and choking humidity!

Where The Hell Is It?

If you think keeping track of a wandering toddler is difficult, try keeping tabs on a mobility aid (cane, crutches, rollator)!

I’ll lean my cane somewhere and “wall walk” somewhere else.  Then somewhere else.  Finally, I’ll need my cane and not remember where the heck I left it last!

A "Cane Klapper?"

I need some sort of signaling device that would let me know the location of my cane.  A “clap” or push of a button would make the cane  beep alerting me of its whereabouts.

To remedy this frequent lapse of memory, I try to lean my cane in the same go-to parking places…outside the bathroom door…at the bottom of the stairs…behind my chair in the dining room.

“Parking” my cane in the kitchen gets me aggravated because no matter which kitchen cabinet I place my cane in front of—THAT’S the cabinet I need to open!  “Friggin stick,” I’ll say.

(Disclaimer–A “Cane Klapper” would not solve my kitchen dilemma.  I just wanted to get it off my chest!)

Well, I warned you it was a motley assortment of MS stuff!

Anything you would care to add to the bag?  Go ahead and leave a comment.  We have plenty of room in the My Odd Sock MS Mixed Bag.

It was time to invest in a new cane.  My old one was a reliable partner, but it was beat-up and had alot of miles.

The shiny-new 2010 models were out, so I shuffle-dragged myself to the showroom.  I just love the new cane smell!

I was looking for a plain, black, non-descript cane.  The kind of cane that would allow me to enter a room silently, like a black panther.  (OK, who am I kidding—I walk like a black panther with three legs that have fallen asleep!)

The cane store had a huge selection.  I was confident I would find just what I was looking for.  But upon further investigation, I couldn’t find a black cane—not a white cane—or even one of those old-school silver canes!  No, every cane was bright & glittery and resembled a Jackson Pollack painting.  A Jerry Garcia acid-induced mind trip.  These canes were so loud they made Liberace seem lame.

Then, I saw a sign that explained it all…..

(Bleep)  Are you kidding me?  (Bleep)  “Life shouldn’t be dull and boring and neither should your cane.”  (Bleep)

I just want a plain, black cane!

“…zest for life.”  What is that about?  “Zest” is something I use in the shower!  (Bleep Bleep)

Look, my point is this, if you are 80 years old and stroll into the Legion Hall card party with one of these canes—that’s cute.  But I’m 46.  I shouldn’t be limping with a cane at all.  And I don’t want to call attention to myself with my fancy walking stick.  I want to blend into the room like a bad piece of wallpaper.

As a matter of fact, if DuPont made a wall paint called “Gimp,” I would smother myself with it—two coats!

The Funny Meter

Oh, go away “Funny Meter.”  Everything doesn’t have to be hilarious.  Geez, gimme a break.

The Funny Meter

Screw you “Funny Meter.”

Your father was a digital thermometer and your mother was a Richter Scale.

There, are you laughing now?

I can’t speak for everyone with MS, but we just want to blend in as best we can—with a plain, nondescript cane.  Not something inspired by the psychedelic 60’s.

Oh yeah, by the way, I found my cane at another store.  Happy walking!

Me & my new dancing partner.

The Swiss Army Knife.

First introduced in 1859, this baby was the cat’s meow of knives!

The Swiss Army Knife was decked out like a pimp’s Cadillac Coupe DeVille.  It’s the McGyver of cutlery!

Boasting not only a main blade and a smaller blade too…..plus, tweezers, a toothpick, corkscrew, can-opener, flat-head screwdriver, Phillips-head screwdriver, nail file, scissors, shoelace hook and a key ring.  (With all this stuff, it’s no wonder since the early 1800s,  the Swiss have remained neutral in world affairs.  If their knives are this devastating, imagine what their other weapons must be like!)

In other words, the Swiss Army Knife gives you a bunch of tool options to get the job done.

While digesting that thought (along with a ham sandwich), I began comparing it with your typical MS treatment plan.

With a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis, there are so many doggone symptoms & side effects, you almost need a Swiss Army Knife of treatment options to cover all your bases!

As an example, here is what’s included in My Odd Sock’s Swiss Army Knife of MS treatment:

Baclofen-  Helps control my spasticity, the arch-enemy of my MS.

Me getting Botox

Botox injections-  NOT for my face, but for my legs!  Every three months for spasticity. 

Apitherapy-  Bee stings.  Bee venom therapy.  I have been doing this once or twice a week since 2002.  Pro or con–I don’t know.  I do it for peace of mind.

Supplements-  I’ve taken as many as a dozen different things at one time or another.  Now, it’s just the basic vitamin C & D.

Grrr, stretch those legs!

Stretching-  I stretch more than a WalMart shopper’s tube top.  Like a ten-year-old housecat, I move & reach to reclaim any lost range of motion.

Diet & Exercise-  I try to eat a healthy diet, lower in fat.  Nothing fried.  Exercise helps me beat the MS beast better than anything!  I feel better, more relaxed, less stiffness & muscle spasms.  I try to exercise 30 – 45 minutes four to five times a week.

Depression med-  Yeah, I like many of you with MS, I have experienced the dark side.  My pink pill is why I am so damn perky!

Mobility aids-  Canes, walkers, wheelchair–I’ve got a whole mini-van full of crap!

My Odd Sock's Dynasplint System

AFO & Dynasplint-  Used to correct MS-related foot drop.  Wearing them makes me feel more like Peter Weller in “RoboCop!”

Some of the other MS tools I have tried over the years include Ampyra, the walking drug…massage (NOT the truck-stop kind!)…physical therapy….IV/oral steroids (Unlike Barry Bonds, I knew what I was taking!  And of course the usual disease-modifying injectibles.

We are all different, and what works for one, might not work for another.  But it is interesting to see how YOUR knife compares to others!

Good luck in your fight, soldiers!  Godspeed.

With an interest in your public safety, My Odd Sock would like to remind you that old man winter’s ice & snow can make traveling quite treacherous–so be careful on your journey.

Duh!

This message isn’t just for those in motor vehicles.

I’m speaking to all MSers & others who “motor-vate” using canes, crutches and rollators!

You see, winter’s slippery conditions can make these mobility aids as useless as spike heels on a frozen lake.  (Not that I have worn spike heels on a frozen lake.)

Canes & Crutches, Crutches & Canes.

On the ice, these guys are deadly.  To safely put a weight-bearing pole on the ice–you better stick your landing like Mary Lou Retton.  In other words, a straight up & down-90 degree plant, because otherwise a cane or crutch will slip out from under you.

A snowy-tipped cane

In the snow, a cane or crutches work well, but you must be careful when coming indoors.

The snow accumulates around the tips of your gear like guys huddling around a TV at a wedding reception!

So clear that excess snow away before you take a step inside.

Slip-Sliding faceplant!

Next, scope out the floor of the room you are entering.

If it is carpeted, there shouldn’t be a problem.  But if the floor is smooth like concrete or tile, the wet tips of your gear, even the wet floor itself, can leave you giving head-first chin music to a floor near you!

Your cane should be dryed AND styled!

That is why I always properly dry (and style) the end of my cane! 

(Twisting the end into a throw-rug works just as well!)

Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’.

Like drivers of SUV’s who think they are impervious to the perils of winter weather, MSers using rollators should also heed caution!

A recent walk down my slightly-sloping driveway became a white-knuckle ride as my rollator began picking up speed.

Pumping the brakes

Instinctively, I squeezed my brake handles causing my wheels to lock up.  The rollator careened toward a snowbank when I remembered the first rule of winter driving….”Always pump the brakes.”

Thus, by pumping my handbrakes, I regained control of my rollator and averted a dangerous situation.

A skid! When will this nightmare end?

Moments later as I over corrected a turn, the rollator entered a skid.

Responding with the reflexes of a Formula One driver, I remembered the second rule of winter driving….”Turn into the direction of the skid.”

Thankfully, with the adeptness of Captain Sully, I guided my rollator safely back into my garage.

Lesson learned.

And let this be a lesson to you too!  I only share my harrowing experiences so you may not make the same mistakes–but be safe in your own haven.

Would you like to share a personal winter experience?

Can you offer tips to others for making the next journey safer?

Remember, slow & steady.  (If you have MS, you probably have the “slow” part down pat!)

My cane

Enjoy this encore presentation of My Odd Sock!    (Fancy talk, eh?) 

She wasn’t shy.  Nor intimidated.

She walked up to me and gingerly picked up my cane which was leaning against the table.

“Don’t touch that” her mother said.

It’s OK” I replied.  “You can play with it” I said to the little girl.

From that moment on, my new friend didn’t leave my side.

Her name was Airyanna.  (I thought she said “Ariel”, like the mermaid) 

She was three-years old.  Cute as a button and wise beyond her years.

I showed Airy a couple of very lame tricks with my cane (I admit my repertoire is rather weak!) and she clapped & squealed with approval.

“I try” she said.  And she performed my “tricks” to perfection.

I applauded for her…while thinking I really need to work on some new tricks.

Noticing her socks adorned with frogs, I said “I like your socks.  Can you jump like a frog?”

She squatted like a frog and jumped several times.  Then she quickly turned to me and said “Your turn!”

“Oh, I can’t…”                                                  

Hop like a frog, you Odd Sock

“Yes you can.”

“No I ca…”

“Yes you can.  Try it.”

So I got down like a frog and made several “leaps,” all without losing my balance or spasticity tightening my legs like a department store mannequin.

Airy clapped with approval and said “See I told you you could do it.”

The kid was right.  Three-year old luck I figured.

Next, she hooked my cane around a chair and jumped over it.

“Your turn” she said.                                      

Jump over the cane, goof

“No, I can’t” I said.

“Yes you can.”

“No I can’t.  I have MS—a degenerative disease of the nervous syste…”

She interrupted “Yes you can.  Try it.”

She would hear nothing of my explanation of MS.

Having a vertical leap that can be measured in millimeters, I picked up my right leg and threw it over the cane.  Then I dragged my left foot over to complete my “jump.”

Airy clapped.  “See I told you you could do it” she exclaimed.

Isn’t it medication time I thought to myself?

I asked her to pass my cane as I wanted to walk and throw a dirty plate into the garbage bin which was about 10 feet away.

“You don’t need this” she said referring to my walking stick.

“Yes I do–I can’t walk witho….”

“Yes you can.”

“No, remember my MS?  The chronic disease?  Myelin sheath…”

“Yes you can.  Try.”

So, slowly but surely.  One foot in front of the other.  My arms out like I was walking the high wire, I made my way to the trash can.

Again, Airy applauded.  “See, I told you!”

Yep she did.  She told me I could do lots of things that I thought this friggin disease had stolen from me.

Who would have known there was no need to consult medical specialists with their wall full of diplomas.  No need to take pills with names I couldn’t pronounce.  Or undergo examinations & treatments costing thousands of dollars.

I only needed to talk to my new little friend, Airyanna.

Thanks kid for giving me some much needed confidence and restoring a little faith & dignity in myself.  The short time we shared together was just a couple of hours, but the impact you made on me will stay with me forever.

Class dismissed.

My cane has become a necessary part of my daily attire.

Like pants!

Cane

Cane is quite reserved, never saying anything and has become a close friend I can lean on.

But lately my relationship with my cane has scuffled (like my feet).

You see, recently I attended a function where I had to hug about 500 folks.

Sure enough, Cane had to be right there…nestled in the middle of it all.

Every–Single–Hug.

Like an obnoxious third-wheel.  A puppy dog afraid to be left home alone.

But how do you hug with a cane?  The people didn’t know what to do.  I didn’t know what to do.  It’s not easy hugging a tripod!

Hem those pants!

In my research I found descriptions of every type of hug known to man:  friendly hugs, family hugs, the crush hug, buddy hug, group hug, half hug, jump-N-hug, spoon hug, snuggle hug, encouraging hug—but nothing about hugging with a mobility apparatus!

In the end I wedged the cane’s handle under my belt buckle, stooping forward, balancing my body weight on my large intestine.

I looked like a Cirque du Soleil gymnast—–who had to poop.

Hugging one of my friends, he jokingly whispered in my ear “Is that your cane or are you happy to see me?”

Great.  That makes me feel comfortably confident.  Not.

When I tried to ease off my balancing act, in other words, not leaning forward so much, I nearly fell backwards.  (Another close friend grabbed me before someone had to say “Timber!”)

Otherwise, hugging as a tripod?  It’s not so bad.

Just chalk it up to another lesson learned as this odd sock shuffles through life’s fantastic experiences.

I look forward to what today brings!

I ironed that sheet used as a backdrop!