Week seven - Living with MS

By week seven of this flare I almost feel like my symptoms are a normal part of my life. I am starting to get in a routine on how to manage most of my obstacles. This week my doctor helped me to look at ways of managing the anxiety and depression that go along with MS. She told me that I was one of the strongest women she had ever met and it was okay to ask for help. Being on my own now I feel like I have to be completely independent but there are things I just can’t do on my own. Dealing with the emotional part of the disease is one of them. I start with a new counsellor next week, one that has experience in dealing with those who have long term illnesses. I think I am on the right path so that I can keep my spirits up no matter what may happen. In the past few weeks I have felt down about things outside of this disease and I let it affect my healing. I can’t let the actions of others take away from my wellbeing. I decided to relinquish their power over me and I am a better person for it. It is funny though how people handle finding out you have MS. Last week I was set up on a coffee date with a friend of a friend. He knew my situation before we met, he saw a picture of me with her and he asked who I was and she told him about me. She only told him about the MS because of the issues with my speech and didn’t want him to be caught off guard if I was having a not so good speaking day. We met at the counter and we got our coffee then went to a table by the window. The conversation was pleasant we laughed and found we had a lot in common. About twenty five minutes into it he looks at me and says “I am going to stop right here, I just think I have time for a special needs woman in my life.” What the hell? It was just coffee and he was the one that asked me out. He then went on and acted put off like I had just stolen twenty five minutes of his life. I finally just stood up and said “I understand how you feel, I only have time for one asshole in my life right. Thanks for the coffee.”. I walked out and got into my car. It was just coffee with some guy I wasn’t going to see again anyway but still I cried as I drove to work. Here I am newly divorced after nearly twenty years already facing the unknown world of modern dating which is nothing like it was the last time I did it. Now I have the added challenge of having a disease that most people don’t know a thing about. I want to go out and meet new people, I want to enjoy the life I have while I am still able. My MS doesn’t take away from who I am or my determination to live a full life. I know there are people out there that understand and are supportive, I am surrounded by them and so grateful to all of them. But I know there are guys like Trevor who fear what they don’t know. I just need to remind myself on this crazy ride to keep a thick skin. So at week seven I stand before you thick skinned, hopeful and determined. I have MS it doesn’t have me.

Week four~ Living with MS

I am heading into my fourth week of this “flare” of MS. Every day has had a new set of challenges that I have had to navigate around and deal with. Every day I remind myself it could be worse, I can do this but sometimes it’s hard. The hardest part of all of this is how many people look at me and just say “well you don’t look sick”. That is the funny thing about MS not everyone who has it has symptoms you can see all the time. You can’t see that I have limited sight in my left eye or that my hearing comes and goes in my right ear. You don’t see that I have difficulty swallowing but you may have noticed I have lost weight. You don’t see pain or the muscle spasms. You don’t see the depression or the insomnia. Add that to what you can see the tremors that have grown worse over this past week. The slurred speech and loss of muscle control on the left side of my face. Those things I don’t let you see because if you see it then it makes all this real. I smile so you don’t see that I just want to cry and ask why me? I don’t look sick because I can’t look sick to get through this. From the moment the doctor told me I had MS I knew no matter what happened no matter how bad I felt I would keep my head up because I know it could be worse and I am luckier than a lot of people with this disease. I may not be able to control what is happening to my body but I can control how I react to it. When my arms fail to hold me up in yoga last night, I did a run/walk on the treadmill. When I couldn’t hold my fork to eat eggs this morning, I made a sandwich. When I couldn’t shave my legs because of tremors I wore pants. I have quickly learned there is a solution for most problems I may encounter and I am becoming well aware there may be things I will need help overcoming. Like the loneliness. It is hard to go through something that many people in your life don’t understand and some haven’t taken the time to try to because I don’t look sick. It’s up to me to help them with that. No matter how bad things get I will remind myself, I have MS it doesn’t have me. I will get through the bad times and embrace the good with every ounce of being. That is how I choose to do this.

We live, we make mistakes, we cry, we drink beer, we move on

We live… Well it’s been year since my last birthday…. Oh you heard that one have you? The last year of my life has been one for the books. And at the close of my 41st year of life I reflect on the things I have learned. The first thing I have learned about myself is that I am not as strong as I like to pretend that I am. Sarcasm is a reaction; it isn’t a shield or a thicker skin to keep me safe from bad things. I am in no way giving up sarcasm it can be very useful in so many ways just not truly guarding against the pain reality sometimes dishes out. And please do not think I am a total wimp I am still one tough gal but even tough gals need to call uncle every once and a while. We make mistakes… I fully admit taking the first job that was offered to me after I left my last job was not the smartest thing I have ever done. I may have missed an opportunity I had waited for for a very long time because of it but I can’t turn back time. (Yes you will now have the Cher song stuck in your head forever) I can only learn from this. Paranoia should not be why decisions are made. Something like this should have been given more than a few hours of thought and filling ones head with self-doubt. And if I hadn’t taken this job I may have never driven a fork lift or been trained on the Blood borne Pathogen Bodily Fluid Spill Kit. We cry….. It is okay to cry when bad things happen and you are scared. Sometimes the only way people know you are hurting is to see you cry. I swallowed a great amount of grief this past year and it tends to change you. Sometimes crying is cleansing it washes the bad out and leaves you with only good thoughts you want to have. We drink beer… I do like beer. I also like that there is a community of great ladies that I get to drink beer with and meet new great ladies and go to great new places. Thanks Indiana Girls Pint Out. We move on….. My 42nd year will be one of many changes. I will find a job that suits me better, I will get my health in order, I will cherish my family and friends. I will cry when I need to and probably drink a lot of beer. But mostly I will live.

My Mid-Life Crisis in 500 Words

I was told by a palm reader once that I would die just before my 84th birthday. Knowing me my death will be caused by my own hand. I’ll probably be run over by my hover round when I reached for my martini glass and fell out. I will be graceful until the end. With that being said, that would mark the next few months as my proverbial mid-life crisis. However my body and my life started my mid-life crisis last summer. My body broke down and then I lost my job of twelve years. I hadn’t realized until just recently that all that affected me more than I thought both physically and mentally. Lucky for me I have a good family and friends that kept me from going completely over the edge over this crazy year I’ve had. But still I am standing pretty close to the edge and I know it’s time to step back. Recently we have had some major flux at my current place of employment that has made me realize I am still mourning the loss of my old job. When you work somewhere you love for nearly twelve years, with people you truly care about it is difficult to let go. I didn’t really realize it until my six month evolution. I didn’t leave there on my own terms and I believe that makes putting it behind me so hard. I also realized that I wasn’t really as much a part of the company as I thought I was. I made myself fit in a way that didn’t really work for them and someone finally saw that. All things happen for a reason but it doesn’t make it any easier especially when I know without any doubt that I do not fit into my new job at all. I need to find the puzzle I actually fit into. And what I know I doesn’t fit into right now are most of the clothes in my closet. Funny thing about life it sometimes come with stress eating which adds oh so many pounds. I am the heaviest I have ever been and that includes pregnancies. I am not afraid to admit, I am owning the fact that I let myself go. Had I kept myself in check and taken care of myself I wouldn’t be here. And I know that I have to get myself back on track. Two years ago I was at the weight I wanted to be at and felt great I want to be there again. I know it will help my current health issues, it will help with my mood and my overall wellbeing. But I will need help this time lots of it. Not all midlife crisis’s come with fast cars and plastic surgeries. Sometimes they come with a few tears when you look at your sleeping children then the mirror and realize you could be better for them, you could be better for you. That’s how mine happened.

Yes Virginia, retailors are stealing Christmas

Yes Virginia there is a Santa Claus, and he will be at your local shopping mall earlier and earlier every year so that retailors can make money sooner and Christmas is just another day that doesn’t mean anything more than the bottom line. When I was a little girl there were no glimpses of Christmas until you got the Sears Big Book catalog with all the latest toys which usually arrived in November. The season kicked off once you saw Santa make his way down the street on TV for the Macy’s Parade on Thanksgiving. The next day the stores were all decorated and the decorations in the town square were lit up, with the faded Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer lighting the way for all the holiday magic. There was no Black Friday. That Friday was the first day of holiday baking, decorating and writing our lists to Santa while we had that Sears Big Book and its already worn pages marked to show him what we wanted. The trip to Santa was always nerve racking trying to remember everything you wanted to ask him without sounding too greedy. Greedy kids were on the naughty list and just the thought of coal made you shiver in your Moon boots. We went to church back then, most everyone did. There was the traditional live nativity or anointing of the crèche. Even if you weren’t an overly religious person, the ceremony meant something. It was a reminder of what Christmas was supposed to be about. Family and tradition was more important than getting the latest gadget at ad match prices. Kids bought their dads ties they would never wear, you bought mothers perfume that made her smell like dead flowers and you made someone in your family an ashtray even though they didn’t smoke. At some family holiday gathering you would eat aunt so and so’s Jello surprise salad and lied about how wonderful it was until you realized the surprise was it was left over from Thanksgiving. These are the things we remember, not the gifts we got but the moments years later we joke about. I wish my kids could know all the magic I did during those years. Each holiday was allowed to stand alone with all its wonder. I try to created that at home but the outside world does its best to squash my idealistic bubble. I don’t want my kids to think of this time of the years like it is just like any other time of the year. It should be special. It shouldn’t be splashed all over the television and shopping malls in October so it loses its meaning. I do what I can to make it special and I think they understand what it should be about which gives me hope for Christmas to come. Yes Virginia there is a Santa Claus you just may need to look a little harder to find him under all the retail propaganda. But he is there and thank goodness he is there to bring a little magic back to this time of the year.

Me on a plate

Me on a plate. Those four words have haunted me ever since I hit send back in July when I pre-registered for MasterChef audition. How does one even begin to decide how to plate and present yourself on a plate? Me being me giggled for a moment to myself wondering what sarcastic or bitch would taste like. I imagine something spicy and slightly bitter. And if that were the case I’d plate a kick ass Bloody Mary but this is MasterChef not Master Bartender, which would be an awesome show Fox should get on it. Who am I food wise? Well I cook for family and friends and their opinions means the most to me. When I prepare a dish for them I consider things they like and what would bring them joy and comfort. So I knew my dish would have to be a comfort food. Something warm and hearty like a big hug on a cold day. I am a pretty good hugger though I am reserved with them so my dish needed to reflect that, so onions. Yes onions. I love onions but some people are scared of them. If handled correctly these lovely layered beauties can be sweet and savory, if handled incorrectly they can have a bite that you will regret just like me. Onions with the right herbs can be healing magic and nothing some healing magic like some bay and fresh thyme. If I am anything I am a girl who knows her herbs and spices just like with onions, herbs and spices can make and break a dish just like too much perfume on a woman. And no one likes that. Beer. I love beer. I love to drink it, cook with it and bake with it so it had to be a part of my dish. I went with a nice hearty stout because I am a Midwestern gal and I had to represent my bovine corn fed side a little. That same Midwestern gal decided chicken thighs were the best protein to soak in all this tasty goodness. Sweet and tender willing to take on the flavor, yes I can be sweet and tender I have layers like those onions! So beer braised chicken and onions is what I decided best represented me at this point in my life. It isn’t the prettiest of dishes but I am not the pretest of girls but I hold my own I figured the dish would do the same. I chose to pair with dumpling noodles and sweet glazed baby carrots. I went out and bought a beautiful new plate because every gal needs a new outfit before a big event right? I bought all my ingredients and made sure I was prepared to put me on a plate. I woke at five in the morning and made the dumpling noodles. I started my chicken, then the onions an hour later then I should have. I ruined the first batch of noodles, nearly burnt the carrots and ran out of salt. Cooking in a hotel kitchen gives you a whole new level stress on a day that could change life and my stress level told me the only thing I would be showing them on that plate was a big old hot mess. I finally got my crap together and we headed to the hotel. Once I got there it was too late to second guess anything. I listened to what others were making, to me it didn’t sound as if they were putting themselves on a plate, they were putting what they thought would get them through and they probably would but I still felt good about my dish because it was me and I know me. We were broken up in groups. I was number twelve and in the second group. I stood talking and laughing with a few people in line and we guessed that out of all the people that would go through this process that day, about three hundred maybe five people would be chosen to go to LA. If that isn’t a reality bitch slap for you then I am not sure what is. Our group went it about eleven. We got the directions we needed from the casting directors and were told we had three minutes. Three minutes to put yourself on a plate. The shortest three minutes I have ever known in my life. There I was dishing noodles, picking the perfect chicken thigh, arranging my carrots and time was called. My heart was racing, but I was smiling because the room filled with the scent of my savory chicken and everyone was looking my way. I was fourth for the taste tester to visit. I watched carefully as she went to each of the others and asked them about the foods they liked to cook. When she got to me I was ready. I answered her questions she tasted my food and moved on to the next person in line. The casting director followed her and asked all about me, I couldn’t tell you what I told her I was so nervous and then she was gone. They said once we were done we could pack up or we could taste each other dishes. I wanted to see what others had made, I was impressed but they were equally impressed with mine. When everyone was completed we all packed up while the crew got together to discuss how the twenty five of us did. The main casting director came up with a stack of our forms and thanked us for our dishes and showing them who we were. She asked that eight people stay behind they had more questions for them. I wasn’t in those eight. When I wasn’t chosen to be one to move on to the second interviews I was heartbroken. All those dreams you have when you see yourself doing the one thing you really wanted to do all fade and I felt as if I have nothing to look forward to now. I had to tell myself a few times I am only disappointed not defeated. This year I survived going blind in one eye and losing my job, this was nothing in comparison. There will be another chance to do this and maybe the me on the plate will be the person they really want.

Master Chef in heelz?

Yesterday I made a decision to do something crazy. Not leaving for the Navy three weeks after I signed up for it crazy like back in 1994 but crazy none the less. I decided to apply to be on Master Chef. This may be a crazy pipe dream but it is something I have wanted to do for a while. I am passionate about food. I love to talk about food, I love to cook food and love to eat it of course. I want to share my passion with others and I feel this is an opportunity to do so. The going blind in one eye thing a few months ago was a giant kick in the pants for me. Life is full of unexpected occurrences and you never know what will happen next. Take the opportunity to do the things you want to do before your ability to do them is taken away. I may not have a chance in hell of getting on the show but at least I can say I tried and for me that is a win. BUT if I am given the opportunity to cook for three of the best chefs in the world I will do my best to represent Indy and all the wonderful food knowledge I have learned here. I have never lived somewhere where there is such a sense of local pride when it comes to cooking. Indy knows how to do the drink and eat local thing right. I plan on representing the 317 by showing the judges our local spirit through food. I am sending in my application tomorrow after which I am going to start teaching myself some things I will need to know how to do to survive the Master Chef kitchen if I make it. Me learning to filet a fish will be interesting to say the least. I may call on family and friends to do some taste testing as well. Any good cooking vibes would be greatly appreciated as I start what I hope is a long and fruitful journey.