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.

Relax in front of your television any weekday and it will surely happen within five or ten minutes.

Poop cramp? you ask.

No silly.  I’m talking about seeing a TV commercial from a legal eagle proclaiming your rights to a disability claim.

I deserve it!  (So the ad says)

Then the lawyer, standing before an American flag wearing a snappy suit from Men’s Warehouse, points his finger and says ”No fee unless YOU win!”

It’s like the guy is staring right at me through my TV!

He knows I am not working.

He knows I am aggravated because he has interrupted my re-run of “The Facts of Life.”  (Tootie was about to return Blair’s shoes she had borrowed!)

The claim game

Their messages are relentless.

And after seeing them, I feel like a piece of crap.  (Which explains why I rarely watch TV during the day!)

I didn’t consult a lawyer for my disability claim.  Just filled out the paperwork and soon was “awarded” my gimp status the very first time I applied.

I thought the reason was because  my “excellent essay answers” sealed the deal. 

Or maybe it was the three doctors who filed reports on my behalf.

Later, I heard because of the work done by the National MS Society, every MSer who applies is approved.

So who knows.

I just don’t like the way the whole disability game is portrayed by law firms in their advertising.

Here is an ad.  I love how the ad states “Win $$.”

Like those of us on disability have acquired a huge windfall!

Frankly, if it wasn’t for my spouse, I would be living in a refrigerator box under a highway overpass!

If I want to “Win $$”….I’ll go on a game show thank you very much.

Here is another swell claim from a lawyer ad.

“We do whatever it takes to win your case!”  Gee, that sounds illegal doesn’t it?  If doing whatever it takes involves threats, bribes or car bombs—just leave me out of it please.

So, I ask you, what were your thoughts during your disability claim?  Did you need to consult an attorney?  Have you had any problems since?

Your wisdom & experience may be just what another MSer needs to hear as they begin the process!

Case dismissed.

As the rhyming Johnnie Cochran would say…”If he’s got a limp–he must be a gimp!”

We as MSers have heard all the innocent comments made by others.

We’re so good at accepting them, we just let them roll off our backs like rain on an umbrella.

But one comment made to me numerous times over the past year really twists my pit hair.

“So how are you enjoying retirement?”said a huggable elderly friend.  I understood the intent of her question and those made by others are not meant to harm.  But dang, that one stings like vinyl seats on a hot, sunny day!

Her harmless query floated from her crimson lipstick-caked lips–but it walloped me upside the head with the force of a Mike Tyson roundhouse.

Honestly I would have been more comfortable had she asked…”So how does it feel to have your body’s own immune system eating away at your myelin sheath?”

I could accept THAT one easier than questioning my “retirement!”

Happy retirement!

When I think of retirement, I picture an informal gathering in the lobby where I would be presented with a gold watch, a piece of cake and a smattering of applause.

“Retirement” is hanging with the other geezers on the shuffleboard court.

Comparing surgery scars.

Arguing who’s the best quarterback in the day.

And enjoying a 4:15 pm “early bird” dinner special!

Retirement?  Are you crazy lady?  I’m only 47 years old!

I’m too young to qualify for a membership to AARP!  Too young to let the belt of my coat hang out the car door.  Much too young for reruns of “Murder, She Wrote.”

Would rather eat tree bark.

And fiber?  Got plenty of fiber when I was in grade school gnawing on my pencils.

I’m too young yet to consider adding fiber to my diet.

“I asked about your retirement?” she said again.  Her voice bringing me back into the moment.

I smiled and responded “Sorry, I was just thinking of some things.”  Then added “I’m not really retired–I’m on disability.”

It’s getting easier handling that question, but it still throws me.

Have you been asked?  How do you handle it?

I realized this situation is familiar to some (but not all) of us with multiple sclerosis.  And it is a minute aspect in the grand scheme…but it means alot in personal pride, spirit & wellness.

Having been on disability for a little over a year now…and slowly shuffling with a cane, conjures up the image of a fragile, helpless being in the eyes of others.

And with that…..PFFOOT—TOOY!

I spit in the face of the thought.  (That is, if  I could spit.  As a kid, I envied my buddies who could spit with the accuracy of a cobra.  When I tried, I would get a long string of spittle that had the elasticity of a bungee cord, hanging from my mouth. waist-length till I broke it off with my fingers!)

Please pardon my long aside.  Now, back to the story.

I may be disabled with MS–you may be as well–but that doesn’t mean the world stops for us.  The world keeps moving, and so should we.

People are often dumbfounded that I do what I do.  Let me explain.

Just last week, I was shoveling snow when the phone rang.  Moving with the speed of a glacier, it rang about six times before I could answer.

It was a friend.  I explained to her I was shoveling the driveway.  To which she asked “How are YOU shoveling snow?”

Pausing, I said…..”With a shovel?”

I knew what she meant.

I knew what she was referring to.

The same thing happened during a recent doctor’s appointment.  I was told to use a rollator more frequently.  I responded by saying I use one when working in the yard (My fumble-feet and bumpy grass don’t always agree!)

I continued, “I took my Halloween decorations down and used my rollator to transport a bale of hay to the shed in the backyard.”

The doctor blinked repeatedly like he was in an Oklahoma dust storm.

The point is, we may be “disabled,” but shit still needs done.  So you find a way to do it!

A task may take us three, four, five times as long to finish–but we (you) can do it with a little creative thought.

Now, I’m not suggesting you shovel snow, tote that barge or lift that bale–but by golly, you & I can be more productive than what others believe.

Yes, I’m still adjusting to this whole disability thing.  And struggling at times.  What am I supposed to do?  I can’t sit all day watching the endless TV commercials of lawyers yakking about Social Security disability.  (Sorry “Dewey, Cheat’em & Howe” law firm—thank God I didn’t need their services!)

I’d love to hear how you are coping.  Do you have the same feelings?  How do you handle the tasks at hand?

We may be on disability, but dammit, we have ability!

Do what you can—with what you have left.

Drain that gas can each day.  Don’t waste a drop.

You can do it.  I’ll help you.  And when I need help, you can help me.

Keep moving ladies and gents.

Friggin MS.

For years as my multiple sclerosis continued to progress, I was told I should think about disability.

But I didn’t listen.  Stubborn as a mule I guess (and breath just as bad).

So finally I apply.  And was approved.

Well, it has been six months on the gravy train and each day I ask myself…

“OK, now what?”

Really…….Now what?

I almost titled this “OK, now what?” because it sums up my truer feelings.

All my life I’ve been like a little puppy.  Tail wagging.  Charging here and there.  Always eager to ask about the next adventure.

Now, with my MS keeping me on a short leash, I still dribble on the floor like a puppy–but my tail doesn’t wag as eagerly.

My disability has been approved, yet I worry–and wonder–if this is it.

In essence, I ask “What do I do now?”

Maybe it’s cabin fever to the extreme.  I mean I’ve run the sweeper so often I’ve got ruts in the carpet.

I’ve heard MS being described as the “couch potato disease” (I never know if I should spell “potato” with an “e”) because of fatigue issues.  That’s the wrong thing to say to me.  I’ve never been one to sit still for long.  I even freak out playing “freeze-tag.”  I refuse to be labeled as a couch potato.  That’s why this whole disability thing has me flustered.

Do I get a job?

I know I am allowed to work on disability.  Unfortunately, the job market is the worst it has been in a great while.  And honestly, there are so many people looking for work, who is an employer going to hire—a healthy guy or gal—or someone with so many walking aids they should star in the next movie for” Transformers?”  Honestly.

Should I volunteer?  I suppose that is a possibility.  Although volunteering doesn’t add to the bottom line.

Did I warn you I was going to be all over the place with this column?

Maybe I should stay home and write for this goofy website.  It IS therapy to an extent.

The world is my oyster they say.  I just need to figure out which ocean I should leap into for my next move.

If you have MS, or any other disabling disease on the Rick Dees’ Top 40, have you experienced similar feelings of “what now?”  How do you cope?

I would hang and chat, but I’ve got a sweeper to run.