Party On Wayne
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.
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!
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.
5 Replies to “Party On Wayne”
You are more brave than I. I don’t attend parties anymore. Even a small extended family gathering is off limits. The “what do you do” question is always a sticky wicket. I usually pretend I mis-understood the question, and talk about my latest hobby.
Next time someone asks you what you do, answer with a straight face, “I’m a blogger.” “About what?” “Depends, just whatever is going on in my life pretty much.” “Aha,” s/he says. “I kind of do the same thing with my twitter feed. Isn’t it fun?”
For what’s it’s worth.
This could really be the start of an interesting competition! Who can come up with the best response to the question, “What do you do?” You have such an amazing with, Odd Sock, that I’ll bet you could arrive at some doozy answers!
Peace,
Muff
Being confined to a power chair has kept me from many social situaions, mainly due to lack of accessabilty and “being in the way”. However, there is one advantage, CAKE. I recently was able to attend a wedding. After the cake was cut, I remained at the table, while others stood in line to get their slice of cake. Wanting to be helpful, more than one person brought me a slice of cake. This has happened at other celebrations too. Invited to another wedding in February. Good thing I like cake. 🙂
I was thinkin (dangerous) maybe print off a blue tag that says handicapped seating only for hostess to put on a chair before the party starts. Talk about reserved seating eh? I have done the dougie downer myself, awkward.