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My Profile
Retro-retrospection - 2008-10-06
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8:16 a.m. - 2004-07-03
Martyr Mom has left the building. Okay, so it took having half my face paralyzed before I understood. There’s being a noble, fiscally responsible good mommy and then there’s being a martyr-ish schmuck. I cannot keep denying myself adequate medical care so my kid can have light-up sneakers. I just can’t. To that end there’s a lot of stuff I’ve been denying myself out of misplaced nobility and a stupid pointless pride. Ole LA was jest gonna be the best-est person EVER! When I died my kids wouldn’t smile with relief when they heard the news. If anyone remembered me with a curse on their lips it would be because of my political views, not because I was a horrible person who neglected her family. So. Susan the housecleaner is coming over this morning. Zee my hairdresser is coming over Tuesday to cut my hair. I’ve arranged for Alex to always schedule Thursday mornings off so he can drive me. Alternate Thursdays will be spent turn and turn again at the chiropractor and the massage therapist. Once a week I will pay to have someone put their hands on my body and help it work better. I will not feel guilty about those things. All right, I will try REALLY hard not to feel guilty about those things, okay? I’m not going to ignore myself when I feel lousy. Just chalking it up to the MS and continuing to chug along. MS is not a Get Out of Disease Free card where I never get sick with anything else. The ER called back yesterday and told me I should see an infectious disease doctor, it seems there’s a good chance I have Lyme Disease. Lyme Disease. How does Lyme present itself in later stages? Muscle pain, coordination and cognitive difficulties, horrific headaches, sporadic fevers, loss of appetite, slurred speech, and swollen joints. How does a woman in peri-menopause with MS feel 99% of the time? Tired, achy, discombobulated, confused, hot flashy, nauseous, stumbling and slurred of speech. It’s like when I had mono several years ago. I walked around with it for over 4 months before passing out in Nordstrom’s dressing room. Who knew? Sure I was tired. I had a 70 hour a week job, a kid, a huge house, and MS. How else was I supposed to feel? Feeling like crap cassarole is par for the course. But if I weren’t so willing to blame everything on MS, if I weren’t so stubborn about ‘wasting’ money on my health and got regular check-ups, if I allowed myself to fight to see a decent doctor instead of settling for the ghetto guys who take patients with no health insurance and treat gunshot wounds no questions asked- cash in advance, please, well then maybe I might not feel SO lousy ALL the time. If I got some rest instead of dragging around poking lint balls out from under the couch and deororizing my freezer at 3:00am maybe I’d look forward to my days instead of just slogging along on a dreary treadmill of chores and responsibilities. If I weren’t at war with my body all the time, clenching my teeth when it hurts, smiling when I want to cry, forcing myself to shut up and keep going lest my husband think me a slacker or making my children ‘suffer’ through the occasional Pop Tart breakfast I just might remember who I am. And I sure as shit wouldn’t be sitting here with drool on my chin and a patch on my eye. I guess I will always fight those feelings of unworthiness. I’ve never learned where the line is when it comes to being ‘good’ to myself. To me anything I do for myself seems shameful and selfish. It’s the way I’m built and it was burned into my programming since birth. I know I’ve made brave announcements like this before and I eventually backslid into martyrdom again. The siren song of the familiar and safe. But even there I’m going to cut myself some slack and start again without the self-defeating recriminations I keep holstered on my hip, ready to beat myself up at the earliest opportunity. All I can reasonably ask of myself is the same courtesy I extend to my friends and family, trying is good, never mind the mistakes. Learn from them and move on. Moving on, ~LA
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