Wednesday 30 June 2010

30 June 2010

It's been an interesting week. Not going to the loo, in the conventional sense has been odd. I thought I might forget to empty the bag and have all manner of embarassing incidents, but I needn't have worried. It's hard to ignore a slowly filling bag on your leg.

I've discovered that the catheter is uncomfortable, bordering at time on painful, when the trousering is unforgiving - which pretty much all of my suits are. So careful selection of clothing is important, but not as tricky as it was before the catheter. I'll find out on Friday what the score is and what the future holds. I guess it will be some sort of interesting situation, but I'm so over trying to predict what the outcome might be.

Like so much in life, I am learning, it will be what it will be.

Friday 25 June 2010

25 June 2010

This morning, I went to A&E. I'm glad I did.

Without a moment's hesitation, they put as catheter in, the result was dramtatic. Within minutes the two litre bag was full. It was such a relief, I just laid back and enjoyed the relief from pain.

What the cause was, whether it's something to do with the MS or something else, I'll find out in a week's time - probably. Meantime, I am quite happy having a catheter in.

Thursday 24 June 2010

24 June 2010

Just when I think it's all going so swimmingly, the MS has other ideas. It's Thursday and I haven't peed since Tuesday, or maybe Monday (I've lost track to be honest).

At first, it seemed like a blessing - no rushing to the loo, when I can't rush anywhere. But now it's a serious pain in the gut. I wish I could just pee. I've not slept properly for the past two nights. I keep on waking up, thinking that I will go to the loo, and sitting there (I've pretty much abandoned standing because of my balance - or lack thereof) for ages, falling asleep, waking up, going back to bed and repeating ad nauseam. I can't ignore it, lest I wet the bed, but I can't.

So, in the end, I couldn't bear the pain anymore. Not that I would have ignored it for long, but the decision was taken for me. Tomorrow I need to see a doctor.

Friday 4 June 2010

4 June 2010

A word of advice. When my MS Nurse first suggested to me that I use a stick, I would have stuck pins in my eyes before doing so.

But... MS is invisible. People can't tell that you have any need for consideration.

Today, as I got off the train, a woman asked if I needed any assistance. Then a man, who must have been the age of my parentsd, did likewise. As the man passed me a few moments later, he hailed me to ask if I was still ok. People. You want to believe that the concept of caring is a thing
of the past, in a large city, in the 21st century. It's what all logic tells you. But no. People care just as much as they ever did. I love people.

3 June 2010

Oh bugger. Such a crappy time on such a beautiful day.

All was going so well. I met an old work colleague whilst waiting at the bus stop to go home, but the bus tool too long to come. By the time I got to the station, I had 20 minutes until my train. No problem. I sat down, about 100 yards from my platform, toying with the idea of having a snooze.

I set off for the train with about 10 minutes to go. 10 minutes to cover 100 yards. A breeze, even for me. Oh no. I found myself crawling (not literally) along, using the wall for support. As I got to the platform, with two minutes.

As I shuffled towards the train, my balance finally gave way. I tried to steady myself with my stick, but even as I did so, I felt myself going. I ended up on my back on the platform. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I would have laid there quite happily for a while. I really had lost the will to do pretty much anything.

But it was not to be. Three women leapt to my aid, ordering nearby me to assist in helping to get me upright. As they propelled me towards the train, one of them held the door so that it wouldn't close.

I mumbled my gratitude, but it all seemed so little for these kind souls who had rushed to my aid.

Sometimes, people do things that are so kind, so unbelievably kind, that it makes you feel so humble.