A Day in the Diet - Archives
Past articles from our Day in the Diet feature, by Rosamaria Sagastume, containing thoughts, tips and experiences in living with MS and the Swank Diet.
Entries are sorted by publish date, with newer entries toward the top of the page.
We Are All Stars (October 2008)
Where has MS taken me? It has taken me to the deepest recesses of my mind, my body, my spirit. For three and a half years I have journeyed with the knowledge that my brain and spinal column have lesions, scars, bright spots on MRI scans, which dictate that I should be in a less than favorable state. My state is favorable, save the symptoms. Those dreaded tingles and numbness, the creepy invisible ants on our legs, crawling on our backs and all over our limbs for only us to experience and brush away, I am talking about those symptoms. After riding a bike, if we are lucky enough to still have that skill, the sore legs and feet that choose not to work well for another week as they repair. Then there are those clumsy hands, which drop glasses onto hardened floors, breaking on impact. I can thank my sometimes clumsy hands for my “eclectic” collection of odd glasses and mugs as “sets” which come in four always end up missing a partner. My clumsy hands come from using them on a keyboard, or after holding grocery bags for too long. Even steering my bike, the grip my hands utilize leaves me tired in the hands, and yes, I message them, and luckily, my partner assists at times. Why am I talking about symptoms? I speak of them because they are always present and try to get us down. I do not get down about it. I thank the universe I can experience them as a way to appreciate my body.
I use the word “clumsy” for you to understand the scope of the sensation, if you do not have MS but want to know how annoying this particular symptom is. When referring to my hands, I call them “silly hands” when they are tired and cannot quite seem to open the simplest Splenda packet. I never use negative terms in reference to my amazing body. I love my silly hands, and heavy legs. I thank them daily for keeping me going, walking, even if I do feel “ant central” pacing all over my lower legs. I simply swipe or scratch the invisi-ants as I walk. Hey, I’m in New York, no one cares. People here swipe away invisible flies, although those people tend to be inebriated and on the verge of taking a ride to Belleview. Why am I telling you this? I am letting you know how my body works for me, even when MS peeks out its head and reminds me that I have a disease.
No one told me how to stay positive and confident after being diagnosed. I just did. How did I “just do” that? Well, it was not easy, that’s first and foremost. Lying in bed with restless legs and pains searing all over my skin was not the most nurturing and calm environment for me to deal with the new findings. Did I have a choice? Not really. It was my “flight or fight” response. Apparently, I am a fighter. In order for me to have won that fight, I did have to “fly” to a certain extent. I disengaged from my body and created a world in my mind where I could walk, run, dance, feel, taste, see, love, have kids, never need a cane or a wheelchair, and have a successful life, etc. When I opened my eyes to realize that I was still barely mobile, I sighed and let out sorrow. That’s the key. I let out sorrow. I did not and do not let it in. I maintain a healthy garden, folks. No bugs allowed. No negativity allowed.
Now, I am not Richard Simmons or carry confetti with me everywhere I go, and I sure am quite the laugher. When my legs are acting up, I sigh, let out sorrow, then inhale to focus. Kids, there are always going to be negative energies that try to get you down, take you down and keep you there. It is quite a shame of human beings who consider themselves adults to act in such ways. I am sorry for any of you who have such presences in your lives. I know how tough this can be on anybody. We already have a lot to think about on any given day, or moment, when we walk up the steps to a bus, when we get into our vehicles, when we raise a fork to our mouths. We do not know if we can make the step sometimes, or taste the soup, or feel the steering wheel (and if you are in AZ, I hope you can feel it or you will be scorched!). Maybe nobody has told you but I will. As a person living with MS, you need to be selfish. At times, I want to please the world, it is in my nature. There are times when I matter more than anything and it is up to me to put myself first.
I am a graduate student who is doing very well in her scholastic endeavors. I also am a flamenco dancer who loves her body with every class I take. After my hospitalization earlier this year, my face and neck/ back area went numb. It was numb and swollen to the touch, quite annoying. In fact, so annoying that I decided I would get rid of that symptom even though the doctors said it might never go away. It took several months of fighting the negativity and yes, it was painstaking since with MS, we never know what will or will not come back to us. (Trust me, when I had bladder problems I did not enjoy the idea of having to push down on my belly to assist with evacuating urine from my bladder, but I certainly did it. And yes, when I did it, I would at times giggle, after feeling sorrow. I thought of myself as the Pillsbury dough boy and said “wow, I’m 30 and I’m the dough boy.” That has to bring a smile to anybody’s face.) By June, I was feeling my face again, and once again tasting the range of sweet to bitter. When I had control of my left arm, I chose to challenge myself with a solo dance. Studying Flamenco allows me to use my body and make it stronger while making me incredibly happy! It does take me a bit longer to learn choreography, I notice. My mind and my body disconnect at times and something that I thought I knew turns out to be drastically different than what it should look like. Do I panic or cower? I laugh at my flops out loud, right there in the studio space. I also laugh when I add my own steps, which usually include a swiping of the invisi-ants that show up when I am about to successfully complete a new set of steps.
Dancing has kept my body in tune with my desires to be a healthy woman who happens to have MS. Regardless of this disease, I have performed twice in New York City. Yes, your fellow “MSer” performed in Manhattan and shall continue doing so, regardless of any “bugs” that want to pinch me with sorrow. If anything, when I feel symptoms, I use it as a reminder of how strong I am. I am only on stage for a few minutes, which allows me the pride of self-expression and a lot of recoup time. At times I do not tell you how much pain I have to deal with, my partner truly knows as he is the one who messages my hurting limbs. He is also the one who helps me up the stairs when my legs have a difficult time of moving. He will either lift my legs from behind me, or he will pick me up and carry me up the stairs (whether I like it or not at times). I am strong of mind to not let it get me down. I appreciate that I have someone so kind and strong, instead of thinking that he can, at any moment, choose to find a woman who will never have these issues. If allowed, a flood of negative thoughts can enter my mind and end up eating me alive. What a waste of time. I can be reading instead. It just makes no sense to wallow in misery. Has that ever worked for anyone? I am strong of mind to learn and earn my graduate degree. My strong spirit attracts positive people and experiences into my life. I am strong of heart to love myself so much that “silly hands” is just another term of endearment I give my body.
The body needs fuel. As I am active and work out at least 3 times a week and do a lot of walking, when my legs are not asking for respite (and they do ask, and when I need it, I certainly listen to my body and rest), I fuel my body with really cool stuff. Walnuts are always my snack buddy and now that holidays are coming, the walnuts are here, as are the chocolates! Yikes, the chocolates. What can I tell you folks about the dangers of saturated fat that you do not already know? I will tell you one thing, I ate chocolate yesterday and I can because I am that healthy. If I were sedentary, I would not eat chocolate. As stated, I love me. I want to stay this attractive and healthy for as long as humanly possible. Since I work out, eat well, stay healthy, I can indulge at times. If you do not work out, whether or not you have MS, please do not eat junk. You are what you eat, and everyone wants to know what I am eating these days since I am looking better than I did at 18. Two words, WAL-NUTS.
When I snack, I grab the bag of assorted nuts and raisins. I will not eat too much of them, since they can make you gain weight if you eat more than your share. I absolutely love being 33 years old and having people of all ages shocked to hear my age. I shocked a friend the other day who thought I was 22. He is only a few years older than I. He made my day, and it is a tribute to the work I do with my body. My mind is being taken care of with school, and several other lucrative projects, some taking place out of state. I have working limbs which I challenge and improve daily. Granted, my limbs get very tired, more tired than the girl next to me in dance class, yet I do not quit. My mind also gets tired, after working hours on one project, yet, my mind will not quit being positive and making connections. My heart is pumping rich oxygenated blood through my entire body because it is happy with the rest of me. That is the key, staying happy. That is why I dance, learn, and love.
I first apologize to the readers who have asked me why I have not written. I now know why I have not written since January. I was blocked mentally, having other things on my mind, like the stability and future of my relationship with Wind Horse. I searched for the love I had inside of me to blossom. It certainly did. I learned patience, how to comfort a man, how to listen, and how to surrender to love. I thought I could not express that emotion for another. I had programmed my heart to not feel it for a partner. I had succeeded for four years. This year, I realize that regardless of my attempts to not allow myself to fall in love with someone, something magical did indeed happen. It took a lot of pain and time to get to this point and now I know that I can indeed arrive at a true level of intimacy with Wind Horse.
After several months of stress my relationship as well as being laid off right after Valentine’s Day, I allowed the stress to get to me, and I had to be hospitalized in March. Since then, I still cannot see well from my right eye. I see too much light, and cannot distinguish the spectrum when light is refracted off of sequins, water, or glitter. Instead, I see a blinding light, making it difficult for me to walk on the street without a visor or cap. I cannot make out the distinguishing marks and colors of people’s faces or see their feet as they walk along the street towards me. I have adapted at work. My screen at work is quite dark. The lights in my apartment are seldom on, except a few dim lamps. I miss my right eye, I miss seeing as I once did. I know I will get it back someday… if that never happens, well, at least I CAN see.
The hospital bills are a lot, I won’t lie. They do stress me if I allow them to. I have so wanted to rest for a while, to take a much deserved vacation, or just to not have to spend any possible savings on bills I owe to hospitals or to the mistakes of the past. One thing I am very pleased about it that I do not have to stress about it and Wind Horse is there to remind me of that. I am naturally inclined to want everything to be calm and fair, when things are not, I hold it in, and it eats me alive. Such is my nature for justice that when there is injustice, I find it very difficult to not feel that pain, those wounds that cut like paper cuts on my veins, a sting I cannot reach.
As time moves on and wounds of the past heal, I realize that I am still in love with Wind Horse. Have you experience that before? I have not. Well, almost never. I not only love him, but after one and a half years, I still have that “in love” feeling about him. Yes, butterflies, yes, daydreams, yes, also the occasional sigh escapes my breath at the thought of his heart, his physique, his essence, his word. Wind Horse is a man who not only says something, he actually will do it. A man like that can have a woman at his heart’s beck and call. Better said, my heart cannot deny a man like that. As long as he keeps his word, he is a man in my eyes. After the torrential storms we have endured, and as any relationship will, we have grown together. I can honestly say that I have ever experienced it with any person before Wind Horse. It’s strange to me, foreign, to love someone to a point of calm. Then again, there is such passion when we are together, that people always notice us walking together, they turn heads, volunteer information, compliment us, and want to know who we are. Some things are too interesting to ignore, Wind Horse and I fit that bill.
I fit that bill. While in Boston for the 4th of July, I met several interesting people who all tied back to me somehow. Nothing is a coincidence, so when the bartender at Fenway said he lives in East Boston, my home town, and the man beside me whipped out his Arizona Driver’s license and put it on the bar top next to mine, I was not at all spooked. Yes, I did have a Sam Adam’s Summer Ale, and I also walked about 6 miles that day. My legs, unlike my eye, were working with me as opposed to against me as I strutted from Mass General Hospital to City Hall, to the Wharf and cabbed it to Fenway for a visit to my green church.
I certainly did eat a very swank unfriendly clam chowder though, the feeling of warmth it brought to my tummy and my soul was worth the risk for me. I am still sticking to my oils, low saturated fats, and have started chanting. There is more to me that meets the eye, like the Transformers (yes, I would be an Autobot, who actually roots for the Decepticons anyway?). I still believe that I am going to succeed in living a healthy life with MS, inspiring people along the way. This year, thus far, has taught me to follow my heart, to look into my self and to face myself head on. Think: Luke Skywalker in Dagoba. It is difficult to admit your faults, dare I say, it’s a yucky feeling. Personally, I rather have a BAMN green tea ice cream, but that will only make me fat. Facing myself has less calories, and is sure to nourish my soul and feed my relationship in a healthy, swank friendly way.
I don’t even know where to begin. Normally I’ll have something already in my head, a thought, an image, a bromide, something, anything. I’ve been feeling loopy lately and I am at a loss for where I should begin my month’s story. Last night, before the let down of 3:10 to Yuma, I proclaimed my apprehension towards my body in the present state. I have been trying to make sense if what is happening to me lately. “Symptoms” is too easy of a word to describe it all. Yes, my legs are heavy; the stairs to get onto the elevated subway is taxing, to say the least. For the first time in years, I thought of using a cane as an aid. These thoughts came into my mind, I entertained them. This is not like me. Something is off.
I’m too positive to let anything get me down, even my own body getting tired is hard to listen to. I’ve been staying up late watching baseball because it truly makes me happy. It isn’t a pill or a drug and it gives me pleasure to watch America’s favorite past time during stress. I’m stressed. My body is telling me to listen and I just will not listen as much as I need to at times. I am learning to listen, life is always a work in progress. The part I honestly cannot deal with is not sleeping. MS causes restlessness at night. Cutting into my sleep is like cutting into my body, making tiny slices into my nerves, disconnecting axons and causing multiple scars in my brain. Stress it’s my mortal enemy.
I feel disconnected from my body. I feel like I was coasting on a reliable auto-pilot and suddenly, the pilot chose to vanish, and I’m left in control, with a manual written in Greek. I am known to say a few phrases in Greek, but a scholar I am not. The sights in front of my eyes, a blue sky, a silver train, the Empire State building, buildings, cars, phone, all of it seems foreign to me. Dunkin’ dog and some friends are the only things in my life that remind me that I am on planet earth. Meeting new people also reminds me of my nature. I’m a people person and I’ve been isolating myself from my nature. I need to get back. I have to focus. I need to get a degree in whatever I feel will befit my soul, my talents and though I am great at delegating responsibility and coming up with solutions to large problems.
I had some energy work done last week at Union Square and was told I am a “3” path number. He mentioned that I am the most sensitive of people out there, empathic, gifted when it comes to picking up on people’s energies. I sure as heck have a time here in New York City, especially now, living in the East Village. There is so much pain here, especially from the old timers, the real people that have resided in the East Village all their lives. I notice that most of us are not doing what we are here to do. I cannot speak for everybody but I sure as hell can pick on it streaming past me in the subway, on the sidewalk, and vestibules. Maybe it would be easier if I just stuck with the idea that we are all molecules just bouncing around.
My molecules stopped bouncing a few nights ago. My legs had pains, feet were in and out of “pins and needles stages,” aches in joints, on fingers, on my shoulders, skin was searing hot. For a few minutes I thought about calling a doctor. I played out the visit in my mind and decided going on steroids and not sleeping for the next two weeks was not an option. I want to deal by controlling my symptoms with my mind. So, I chose to take 2 strong prescription sleeping pills and slept for 13 hours last night. I’m so much better today, so far no pains in legs. What a difference one night’s rest makes.
As I got into the packed train yesterday, and my legs were in pain, I immediately walked up to a seated passenger on the “disability seats.” I calmly asked, “may I please have your seat, I am a disabled woman.” He nodded and moved and of course, watched me the entire ride thinking he had just been conned out of a seat. Truly, I was about to let my pink eyes swell to the point of crying. I do not understand why I have MS, I do not understand what the point is. Saying “I am a disable woman” out loud bothered me. I am not DISabled. I wanted to say “I have MS, and it means I have to deal with everything that you have to deal with, but it also means I might not be able to walk someday, according to the doctors and such, so, can you please give me your seat because if I stand, I might fall or have these horrible pains on my weak knees and no one will understand because I look normal to you and I’m really not the same as you, if anything, I am “more”-abled than “dis” –abled, since I still have the courage to get around New York City and deal with no sleep and lots of stress and people who just can’t seem to understand my needs as a woman with MS and so on and so forth, so can I have your seat… please?”
Apparently, communication is the key here and luckily, Wind Horse and I are both writers at heart. If and when communication breaks down, whether it is in relationships or if the disconnect occurs in nerve impulses from our brains to our appendages, no one wins. My communication grows daily with Wind Horse, with the public, and with my body. I write about it in other places as well and for a slice of another quick article I wrote please click: Face of MS I should be on the first page, at this point, I may be on page two. Either way, you will see my purple glasses and know it’s the purple girl, with MS. She happens to have MS. MS does not have her.
I am staring at the Queensborough Bridge, better known to you as the bridge from “Taxi.” It takes you from Long Island City (LIC), Queens to 59th Street in Manhattan. You have also seen in it in Spiderman 2, where the tram collapses with people riding it to work, or in City Clickers, where Billy Crystal is on his way to work on the tram, a look of utter boredom on his face. From here, the bridge’s structure looks like webbing of caramelized sugar drizzled over a surface to harden. The structural skeleton, almost lacey and delicate in its appearance, supports buses, trucks, cement, not to mention itself. At times, society’s weight, it’s expectations of a “disease free appearance,” weighs on me when my legs weaken, my mind races in that fuzzy confusion that makes no sense of “making sense.” The frills and delicate nature which defines me gets lost under all of that weight. Who can a bridge cry out to?
I wondered last night, why am I to learn the same lesson over, and over. Apparently, I have not yet learned that lesson or history would stop repeating itself. My question is, “what lesson am I to learn?” Admitting I feel weak does something to me. It feels unnatural. Yet, this morning, on the ride to work, I stood in the train and noticed my legs wanting to buckle. They are exhausted; they are my recent stress manifested. As much as I like to be positive, I also choose not to relay my pain to anyone. Last night was rough for me. I was not exacerbating, though I was fighting those demons of the past and present. The tingling started in my fingers, as well as the dazed and confused feeling which makes me angry since I am astutely aware of my surroundings. I ended up cuddling with my dog, again.
My nature is to live and let live. I tend not to mess with anyone’s personal business unless I know I have words of advice. I am not nosy, I do not intervene in anyone’s privacy and not many people understand this of me. Last night, as I lay in bed, my mind racing in confusion, not knowing where I even was for a moment, I yearned for simpler days. I yearned for my old home in Arizona, my old mate, my old dogs, my pool, my pomegranate tree, and MS free body.
April Showers Bring May Flowers (May 23rd, 2007)
After a rough and rugged April, May is shaping up to be quite the blooming month. Allergies aside, I feel great about how bright spring looks. I was recently visited by someone who insists on making sure I know he means business. Yes, I’m talking about “love” business. As I have brushed the potential for a relationship aside, due to my very daunting past with relationships, Wind Horse took it upon himself to fly out to NYC to make sure I am aware of his intentions. He could not have gotten here sooner, as I had already made plans to forget about him that same weekend. The weekend was supposed to be a regalia of fun, rock and roll, and staying up until the sun rose. Funny enough, with Wind Horse here, the weekend was pretty much exactly the same, except he accompanied me in my adventures in the Lower East Side karaoke, Central Park hoola-hooping, and Midtown sushi meals. I have not felt that comfortable and that free in years.
Several times I reminded him how I am not ready for a relationship, nor am I prepared to fall in love and give myself to another person for a long time, maybe even never. Where most men would back off, Wind Horse actually embraced all of my concerns with open arms. He is not the past countless men who have stopped calling me after telling them about the MS. Nor is he seeking sex alone and no commitment. Folks, I have a real deal on my hands and I’m still not ready for what’s happening. Who is to say if I ever will be ready? John Lennon said “All you need is love,” once he was a multi millionaire and lived in the Dakota Building in the Upper West Side. Love doesn’t pay the rent. Wind Horse is starting from scratch.
I am about to turn 32 years old on June 11th. I’m not that innocent 25 year old girl who willfully put herself aside to make a relationship happen. He, on the other hand, is a 25 year old man who reminds me of myself 7 years ago. I will embrace his affections, our connection which is the most unique I have experienced thus far, and I will also keep my path free to meet whom ever I may meet. Truth be told folks, as of now, I’m content with the ‘youngen.’ I enjoy his reactions to my spontaneity. He doesn’t moan and groan as most men I have met. In fact, he can at times ware me out! That’s saying a whole lot!
As far as May goes, I’ve been missing going food shopping like I used to in Arizona. I used to love getting in my truck and choosing from beautiful produce at great prices. I loved the ample aisles and cleanliness that my Fry’s in Phoenix offered me. Contrary to my food shopping days in Arizona, I have taken to shopping online for my groceries as it is just impossible to get all the items I need in one old-as-dirt Key Food in Queens. I actually get better prices on every single item when I shop online through FreshDirect.com. I still like choosing my produce at the old-as-dirt Key Food though, as it is truly an organic experience. I want to touch the pear, examine its firmness, smell its sweet gritty skin, and weigh it. There is an art to picking fruit, and while I still can, I choose to not let go of that experience.
When I relax and watch a flick, which these days are DVD’s of “Deadwood” the series, and the wonderful “Six Feet Under” ( I love you, Nate), I tend to make myself some English tea with soy milk, and have some nibbles. If I’m not eating an apple, or honey dew, I will be munching on the crunchiest healthiest little cookies called Almondina cookies. Look these up, they are so natural and tasty. They are expensive, but they last me weeks since I will have one or two with a cup of tea. For breakfast, in this fast paced city, I eat and run. At times I have some cottage cheese with pineapple. The cottage cheese is the lowest fat, of course. I also have found organic healthy fruit bars and granola bars that satisfy that morning hunger without breaking any SWANK dietary rules. Fresh Direct.com actually lets you view the nutrition and the contents of each item prior to adding the item to your shopping cart.
Since I have been eating egg white egg salad with lettuce for lunch, I skip adding safflower oil to my meals. The mono and poly saturated fats are found in the mayonnaise, so there is no need to double up on fats. Of course, sushi is always tops with me. I could eat it daily, but that would be quite the cost on my purse. When I crave protein, and I do on a daily basis, I make edamame. In case you have never heard of edamame, allow me to be the first to introduce you to yet another legume. It’s a soybean which is not only yummy but also so much fun to eat! You’ve probably read it on the list of appetizers in a Japanese restaurant. Next time you see it, get it! That is an order!
When you get your edamame, please do not eat the shell. You actually put pod in your mouth and squeeze out the beans. The pod gets scrapped. I actually brought some for today’s lunch. I just microwave these as they are “ready to eat.” Usually people add salt to them to add flavor. Sodium is not the best for us, MSr’s. Too much of anything is not a good thing. I suggest just a tad of salt if you are making them at home. Once the water boils, add the beans and wait 3 minutes and they are ready! Kids love these things, and they are a fun alternative to your mundane vegetable side dish for dinner.
Those are just a few new allowable foods I have discovered. There are so many more I have to tell you about! Hopefully, now that I will have a new warrior in town in June, I will be able to get the perspective of a meat eater who has no dietary restrictions. Did I forget to mention that? Oh yes, it looks like Wind Horse is moving to NYC. Yours Truly is one of the reasons he is coming closer to me. I guess time will tell, and for now, this recent piercing pain in my right shoulder that runs down my right side to my quadricep is getting checked out by my physician tomorrow morning. I have a feeling that recent stress is to blame for the pain. Sometimes, I have to feel the depth of the pain to understand and no longer fear it. That’s the part about being human that ticks me off. Mostly every thing else is tops. It turns into a whole other game when you start sharing it with someone you enjoy.
People are Strange (May 7th, 2007)
I had lunch with a new friend today. I ate a scrumptious pink cantaloupe, the meat of the fruit creating a milky effect with the cottage cheese that lay on top of my melon halve. During the wonderful conversation (isn’t it great when you can speak normally and not have to “dumb it down”), my right hand gripped the large table spoon with precision and power, digging into the ripe fruit, scooping out a manageable piece, affixing snowy white cottage cheese on the spoon and inserting the fruit’s perfume into my mouth. The first bite, as it touched my awaiting taste buds, was sheer decadence. As I made love to my lunch, my friend tackled his greasy burger with fries. We sat at a diner in New York City, and for some reason, I have a feeling I enjoyed my meal more than he enjoyed his.
I am bold with my MS. When asked, “what happened to you a couple of years ago,” I pause, and if I care enough about the person, and if they do not work directly with me, I offer the truth. After telling Lunch Mate about my MS, I got the response I normally get. He was amazed at my will, my strength, sense of humor and he actually gave me a compliment. Apparently I am “the whole package.” I think I am supposed to feel good about that…for some reason, things are not clicking with me lately.
I have put Wind Horse on an “emotional hold.” I do not know if I am capable of choosing to give myself to someone ever again. The experiences I have had have honestly scared me from allowing this to happen. Recently, about 3 weeks ago, I got a call from an ex whom I have not heard from in over one year. I did not want to ever hear from him again, and there he was, like a phantom, haunting me. Needless to say, scars were tugged, and more were made. Like Jim Morrison sang, people are strange, and I just do not understand their negative behavior. It racks my brain and is quite illogical. Apparently, he went bankrupt and chose to take me along for the ride. I have realized that after the Dunkin’ Dog debt that I incurred after saving my dog’s life in August, and now a new mounting, looming, financial responsibility for having co-signed on a car loan with said ex, I am going to be living out of my means here in NYC. Ask me if I care.
I will be fine. I do not know how yet, but I do know, I will be fine. I won’t die, I won’t get ill, I won’t get another exacerbation. I will succeed. I will achieve. I will live better than I ever have, regardless of the people who have come into my life and have taken pieces of me with them.
Lunch Mate folded his hands, looked as deep as I will allow him to look into my eyes, and was gripped. He saw many layers to me, he was fortunate enough that I gave him a couple. I let him look into the pineapple heart in my chest. I let him see that radiating purple orchid hue which hovers around my figure. I did not let him see the pain. I did not let him see the struggle. I did not let him see the desire I have to understand love once again. Those layers are still locked, kept safe from predators who, in the past, have taught me to keep them close.
He asked me what I was like before MS; my answer, “exactly the same.” I do have a bit more patience, I do not stress as much as I used to, my diet is different, etc. As for my appreciation for life… it has always been this deep, a thick passion milkshake that will not run through the straw no matter how much your face turns blue. I got to thinking about why? A most dangerous question and we know it. How many times have you asked that question? Why did my sister, or mother get MS? Why did my daughter get it? Why do I have to deal with it in my life? Why? Why? Why? See where this goes? No where. And fast. I rephrased the question once I got to my office.
What have I learned which I would not have otherwise learned had I not been diagnosed with MS? The three things that come to mind are friends and family, relationships (with men), choosing not to stress. My family has taught me that blood is indeed thicker than water. Friends will be true when they are really your friends. I have a handful of them, and they are speckles of gold on a miner’s hand. Men have taught me to protect myself to the point of numbing myself to love. Stress is more manageable, though these past few weeks, the past month, proved to be stressful.
After Lunch Mate’s comment, I looked at him, and then stared off into my own world. I’m a package alright. I’m a purple gift wrapped package with a gold bow. I am that package I have been seeking for all these years. I am satisfied with myself to the point of not needing anyone for more than a physical connection. I have even, as natural as a river flowing, recently chosen to slow my flow with Wind Horse. He is in the southwest, after all, and my heart is tired of having to reach so far to get a whisper of warmth. If and when he gets here, things might change, but for now, I have a superhero to tend to. It’s spider man week in Manhattan and I’m not going to miss it! Pass the air popped pop corn, please!
Even in these times of introspection, my sense of humor ends up pushing through. I have my health, my dog, my family, friends, a super hero, fruit…all I need are large man-hugs on occasion. Plus, I have so much to look forward to! Kings of Leon are right before my birthday in June, The White Stripes are at the end of July, The Red Sox are leading in the division, and it hasn’t rained in almost 4 days! Plus…I have to write about the many new safe and healthy snacks I have found that suit our needs. Apples are my nee favorite. Fiji apples and sliced on top of salads, and you have summer fresh in your mouth! Stay tuned for snack tips next time. I need something to munch on while I ponder my next potential relationship! ;-)
Spring Has Sprung (April 2007)
After three weeks of kicking this cold that does not want to go away, spring is taking a while to “sprung”. I literally snowed here twice in the first week of April. Granted, the flakes wandered without a home, curious themselves as to why they were falling on trees already showing signs of buds on the branches. Winter is taking its time in leaving while spring is on its normal cycle waiting for nobody. Old habits, like winter, sometimes drag themselves in leaving us as well. Unhealthy eating habits that should see their end, for example, may take time in ridding itself from out lives. Negative thinking also tends to outlast its stay when it pervades out mind. For me, old relationship scars are taking their time and rearing their snowy heavy flakes in the atmosphere of my mind.
Spring means new things, a new purse, new shoes, new leaves, new flowers and tulips! How do we enjoy the new things when we get reminders of the past? Recently, old thick scars were tugged at when I discovered that I am still very much missing a life I might have had, had I stayed on a certain path. While having no regrets, I cannot deny that I miss my friends, my best friends, and childhood friends, experiences we shared and would be sharing had we stayed together, in Arizona, in a relationship, in a certain career field. This is where I am supposed to tell myself that I am only closing the doors to wonderful things when I get trapped in this mind set. When there is history between two people, I find it impossible to say goodbye.
Memories are everywhere. In fact, according to my tea tag on this morning's Green Tea, "Memories are in the heart," so says the Marquise De Sevigne. I have recently come to understand that all this talk about saying goodbye to someone is utter bologna. I don't want to say goodbye to those memories; yet, I don't want to be hurt either. Is there a happy medium? I can't afford to feel that sting any longer. It rarely happens, but it's apt to happen.
While new beginnings occur all around me, new job, potential new relationship, I find myself dabbing figurative analgesic on old wounds which are also beginning to arise once again. It has been a while since I allowed myself to cry over something that occurred in my past. Recently I had another man stop communication when he found out I have MS (this came after his handful of 'I love you's,' no less). I didn't cry because I honestly must not have cared that much. Old deep wounds, on the other hand, when tugged, leave a very specific sting. This sting lasts regardless of how many words I write, how many people I talk to, how many tears I almost shed, how many seasons have past. I would like to cry for it, maybe let it all out, and as I type, I can't get a tear out. I am trapped between the love I am budding for someone in the present, and for the life I had which I mourn. I miss the woman I used to be.
I used to be this loving woman who was able to focus on one person. I have become a woman who desires that again, and has been through turmoil with love which has taught me not only to not play with fire, but to find other ways of warming myself which leave me out in the cold, putting on layers of sweaters. The sweaters are basically my hobbies. My hobbies are more than mere hobbies, they are my friends who try their best to get me out of a thought that whispers about kinder, attractive, fun men who seem to not exist.
Then, like a season on its unstoppable schedule, I get the best gift, the birth of love. He is not anything I thought I would ever want, and here I am, softening up like silly putty in the sun. Hard at first, tough to break, but with the right amount of warmth, it gets quite malleable. My friends, those who know about him, are in shock. They here me speak and tell me that they never thought hey would hear me speak like that (Thanks for the support, guys, sheesh).
As you know, I'm not someone who lies about my situation. IF my hands area numb, you know it, if I can't evacuate completely when I go to the bathroom to urinate, you know it. If I find the best miso soup in the city (which I still think is downtown and I never mentioned that), you know it. So, why lie. I am in love? Am I in love? With all the growing pains and new beginnings, I find it difficult to sort this all out in my life. I feel like taking a break from love for a while, indefinitely, as I had planned to do in the past until Arizona cowboy came on riding in on his wind horse.
Wind Horse happens to know about my MS as I mentioned in January, when I first met him. After having spent the last several years learning to accept a life of “party of one,” in order to avoid the familiar sting of cupid’s arrow, the time has come. Spring has sprung, or should I say, is at bay and ready to show its bright new greens and yellows. Love is a budding new emotion which has never brought me more than hard earned advanced degrees in the “school of hard knocks.” I enter upon this new season of my life with experience, wisdom, and a handful of fear. My heart is scarred, toughened, yet gentle and very red, pumping gallons of passion a day. Seasons wait for no one and I’m no different. I am going to shed that winter coat, those layers of protection and hope that my “Wind Horse” will provide the clement weather for my love to flourish.
