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Therapy session number one went well, although I wouldn't say I was bowled over by the awesomeness of my therapist. Really though, I shouldn't be too harsh as it was just appointment one after all. I had an awesome case of the cog fog, which didn't really help in terms of trying to express myself. I think we made some decent headway and although she did bring up anti-depressants, I let her know that my goal before trying something like that would be to talk through things and see if I couldn't figure out some of this head shit on my own. We talked a bit about my "future" issues and I was every so slightly put off by her reaction to the whole "kids" discussion. While I'm not sure that kids are in the cards for me, since one day it sounds like an awesome idea, and the next day I am thoroughly disgusted with the thought of human beings reproducing in the first place, I'm not sure I felt like she really "got" where I was coming from. In expressing my concern or "fear" over the whole deal, she let me know that these are concerns that anyone would feel. Well yes, parenting is huge. It's a big thing for everyone. However we're talking about me here, and I'm talking about a hypothetical fear about having a kid and my level of disability getting to a point where I'd be a super lame parent. Ah, lame...haaha funny. But whatever, I'm ridiculously oversensitive and over analytical a decent majority of the time. There we go, that's a good topic to bring up at my next session right?
 
One of the funny things we discussed were various reactions I may have had in telling people I have MS and some of the regret I feel in telling certain people. I'm sure we all have a few of these in our lives. So let me just share with you the one person that I wish to God I would have never told...the milk man, yes, the milk man. He delivers to my work, and I've known the dude for seven years now. He's super nice, Mr. Chatty for sure, which doesn't always fly when I'm trying to get milk put away and do fifty other things at once. Anyhow, he noticed last year that I was out of work for about a week, which was all thanks to my nightmare of an LP and subsequent blood patch. So I get come back to work he was curious where I'd been, so I told him what was going on. Wrong turn. Total wrong turn. Of course his neighbor has MS and she's like, the picture of health. Awesome, good for her. And here come the questions...gotta love the questions. So how do they know it's really MS? How's your MS this week? Have you heard that story about that lady with MS who was bed ridden and then decided to give a gift a day for 29 days and is totally healthy now? Cause you know, so much of it is a "mind" thing? Ah yes, and I've gotten the newspaper clippings about the mother battling MS who's this total fighter and like, supporting her entire family because her husband is dying of a brain tumor or something. While I understand this may be coming from a really good (mind you unbelievably ignorant and annoying) place, I am just about to tell him to shut the fuck up. I am at work, I am feeling great, and I don't feel like talking about M-fucking-S right now. Period. Don't you know someone with cancer that you can go bug? Seriously, that shit is way more interesting. So I have decided that the next time Mr. Chatty shows up to deliver some milk, and asks me how the old MS is doing this week, I'm going to inform him that my awesomely interesting disease is no longer going to be a conversation piece. The challenge will be doing it in a fashion that doesn't make seem like a moody, crazy bitch.
 


Comments

stevedomino

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 03:18:10

The parenting thing is a pretty big deal for us too - my wife would make an awesome mum and is more than ready, but i have the same worries as you wrote about here. I don't want to be 'grumpy/sleepy/wobbly' daddy, i want to be super-cool and active and part of the cool stuff they want to do. I have two fantastic nephews and they love me and all that, but i freak out when i'm just too fatigued to engage with them. And i only see them every two weeks or so.

My only bad experiences of disclosing to people were:
- a really close friend who said, "Oh wow. I knew someone who died of that"
- a self-medicating alcoholic who i was sat next to whilst waiting for my last dose of steroids who said, "oh God, I'm sorry - how long have you got?"

 

punkrockfairy

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 14:38:52

Finally! Someone else who had a "nightmare of an LP and subsequent blood patch." I DO those procedures at work at none of the patients seem to have the horrific experience I had. (Thank gawd for them.) I don't like to feel special in such an awful way. It eases my paranoia slightly to know that I'm not the only one whose LP went terribly wrong after the fact. Sorry it was YOU though. :)

BTW, the anesthesiologist that did the blood patch asked why I wasn't wearing a mask if I had been tested for meningitis. When I told him I was tested for MS he said, "Oh, no wonder you've had problems. If something can go wrong it always will with someone who has MS." What a douche bag!

 



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