10 June 2009

I've been wondering why I've been so tired lately and I just realised why. For the last week the lift in my block has been out of order. Some problem with the brake linings, apparently.

Now I used to avoid using the lift at all. Not through any fear of small spaces, or fear of a lift that appears well past its 'sell by date'. Simply that it was better - healthier - to use the stairs. That, however, was pre-MS. And substantially since my diagnosis. After all I'm only on the first floor, and one of the physios advised me "use it or lose it", which I have taken very seriously.

But more recently I've been taking the lift as a matter of course, because stairs are a struggle. I can deal with them when I need to - in other people's houses for instance. But it's less of a drain, less of a struggle, not to have to.

When I was recently assessed by social services to find out my needs, I told them that without the lift I'm a virtual prisoner in my flat. This is no exaggeration. Whilst I avoid going out unless I need to, now even going out when I need to has become something to be avoided. I now consider whether I *really* need to.

This morning I have an appointment with the physio, so I really, really need to go out. I know the lift won't be working, since it wasn't working last night when I came home. So I will gird my loins and face the challenge of a single flight of stairs. It makes me angry that something so simple has become an Everest-like challenge (ok, I'm given to hyperbole, but you get the idea). I'm not sure who or what I'm angry with: the MS for making it hard; the lift for going wrong; the engineer for not fixing it. But whatever, life is just tha little bit harder than it needs to be at the moment.