Happy New Year

What can I say about 2006? Parts of it were great! Parts of it, not so great. Parts of it downright shitty. Just like any other year. I don’t feel much like reminiscing just now, anyway. I’m too excited about the new year. Can’t remember being this excited about a new year in a looong time.

Some things that did happen, that stick out:
My eldest sister and her husband got their long-awaited baby.
My youngest sister was diagnosed with ms.
My second eldest sister emigrated to Australia.
My aunt by marriage passed away, tragically.
My brother and his wife welcomed their third daughter into the world.
Michael’s sister and her husband welcomed their third son into the world.

Quite an eventful year, from that perspective.

My major goals for 2007:

To eat better than I did this year,
And to start and maintain a healthy exercise regime.
And to improve my heretofore precarious health levels in any way that falls within my reach.


I have made a start with the exercise. For the past three days, I have been swimming every day. I think that there is already a difference in my hips. I have great hope as far as this is concerned.

It is nearly midnight. About fifteen minutes till the new year. And I have pigged out till the bitter end. Tomorrow starts my year of eating as healthily as I can. Mainly, I want to cut out gluten, sugar and saturated- and trans-fats. Also preservative and additives. But basically, I just want to focus on putting quality food in my mouth. I don’t want to pursue a restrictive and unreasonable diet. Just one that is healthy while at the same time being ‘livable’.

I ended up not taking medication for my relapse over Christmas. And though I don’t want to say it out loud, I’m actually feeling all right. Very glad I didn’t get treatment yet. Maybe I can even eke it out for another month. Here’s to hoping.
So while I have to take it easy, and not overdo things, I’m not feeling too bad. Dare I say that it’s a sign for a very good year?
Happy 2007 everyone. I think it’s going to be a good one.

The good life

I've got music,
I've got rythym,
I've got my guy -
who could ask for anything more?

Gershwin

Anyone who reads this blog of mine should be getting used to my ups and downs. I'm not, though, it still catches me unawares, even when I take medication that I know makes me depressed. Slow learning curve, I guess.

My back is finally feeling a bit better. I caan live with it like this. The brace must be helping. I;ve also decided to start exercising before the whole works falls apart. So I'm going to start swimming again. I've avoided it for the last three years because of the chlorine in the water, which upsets my ms-symptoms. But I find it a lot more upsetting not being able to sleep at night from the severe pain in my back, so I think the chloring is the lesser of the two evils.
My parents have a salt-water chlorinator in their pool, which I reckon is my best bet. Now that I've decided that I'm going to start swimming I'm so excited I hardly know what to do with myself. I love swimming. It is my absolute favourite. Can't wait for this afternoon.

I'm going to investigate the exercises that fall within my abilities and make a plan. I'm not good at living with pain.

My parents invited us out this morning to have breakfast with them atmy favourite new restaurant. There was a lovely breakfast-buffet to choose from. So lovely, in fact, that I didn't even have to go off my healthy eating plan. I had a simply delicious fruit salad. really, really good.

I'm on day 6 of my new, improved diet. And feeling much better for it, too. I decided that I may boycott Christmas dinner this year, as I wanted to go on a juice-fast. Well, not wanted to - had to. It is the only thing that stops a relapse. Well, slows it down, anyway. Noticably. So it was either juice-fast for Christmas, or spend Christmas in hospital, mainlining cortisone. Surisingly enough, I opted for the juice.
The thing is, I was feeling crap. Of course everyone says to me, oh, but you look good. But they don't know what's going on behind the scenes.
Optic neuritis, which comes and goes in severity and generally freaks me out, because it leads to loss of vision, fatigue, ataxia (difficultity in walking) loss of strength and co-ordination in arms, heat-sensitivity blah, blah, blah.
But the other night, I lay in bed, fighting off the pain to try to get to sleep, when I thought I was having a mild anxiety attack. From the way I've heard it describe, this is what I thought it must be. The pain wasn't helping, of course.
Then I thought to myself, "You know, you don't really do anxiety."
This is mostly true, even under extreme provocation.
Then I realised it was an ms thing. I can't describe it for the life of me, though I have tried. It happens every night, sometimes more severly than other times.
It starts with like a whole-bode 'restless leg syndrome' feeling. I feell very weird inside my body, spaced out, and heart feels like its skipping beats. When I try and lift my arms, they feel like jelly. In fact, that is what triggers the rest of the feeling, lift, or moving my arms. So obviously I try not to do that.

Anyway, since I've been eating better, I've been feeling generally better, (Surprise, surprise). So I think I may postpone the fasting till after Christmas, and hopefully after my birthday, on the 4th of Jan. Still, I'll take it day by day. All I know is that it is helping enormously that I'm not in so much pain anymore. The back brace does seem to be helping.

Michael has ordered our ADSL line, so no more dial-up for us, shortly. Means I'll be able to update my blog every day. Now that will be nice.

Back Blog

As if i ever write about anything else, lol.
I got my back brace, or guard, or whatever you call it.
So far, I'm optimistic about it. I don't wear it the whole time, as that will weaken the muscles and be counter productive. But like I said, seems to be helping. My mom was kind enough to buy it for me as an early birthday present. Not that exciting, she apologised, but I said that I find the idea of a pain-free Christmas very exciting indeed.

My life has been a tad sucky this week. As if I don't have enough on my plate, I've gone and injured two of my ribs at the back. Stabbing pain every time I breathe in. The chiropractor fixed it, but less than two hours later, it was out again. See - sucky.

I've decided, however, to go back in denial.
I was in denial for a long time, and since I've faced up to 'reality' (very over-rated) I'be been nothing but miserable. Hence, I've crossed back over into denial. What's wrong with that, anyway? People always say it like it's a bad thing.
So now I once again belive I will get better, live happily ever after and children by the dozen.
I think I'm a bi easier ot live with as a result. Much miore peppy.
To my way of thinking, it can't hurt. Much better for me to be thinking positive thoughts, and feeling happy, than to sit and feel sorry for myself about the inevitabilty of it all!
I have detailed fantasies where I am completely recovered. Able to walk normally, run, jump and dance. Wonderful. I can spend ages living in this fantasy world, because it makes me happy. What harm?

People must make up their minds. They accuse you of living in denial, not facing up to things, while simultaneously admonishing you to have faith, don't give up hope.

And, I've started eating properly again. I stuff my face with rubbish when I'm feeling miserable. But now I feel encouraged to feed myself the best, most nutricious foods that I can. Today is day 4. Yay for me! Didn't even join the others for pancakes at lunch.

Blog of the day.

The session at the chiropractor’s went quite well. Bad news, though. He might be leaving SA to go and work overseas. Bummer. Who’s going to ram my hip back into its joint every second month?
When I got into his office, he asked of me, “Same procedure as last time, Miss Sophie?”
To which I replied, “Same procedure as every year, James.”
(These are lines out of Dinner For One, for those of you unfortunate enough not to have seen it).
After that little repartee, I clambered up onto the bench. The thing I hate about chiropractics, is that parts of it are quite nice. You get massaged with a large electric massager. Then just when you are nice and relaxed, and your pressure points zinging, you have to lie on your side in fetal position, and take a deep breath. On the exhale, the practitioner, using his weight as leverage, crunches your hip bones into an alignment more pleasing to him. Then you have muscular pain for at least two days afterwards, as your muscles get used to their new placement. And I pay for this!
I’m thinking I’d better get myself (by hook or by crook) some sort of back brace, to keep the fecker in its joint. I know you get special ones for sacro-illiac problems. Where to find one though? Every time I stand up, just about, I can hear all sorts of uncalled-for clicking going on in my back. I’m starting to get the idea that I’m throwing good money after bad, going to the chiro. And I’m not yet ready for a screw. (A titanium screw, surgically implanted to keep my hip in place, that is, for those of you wallowing in the gutter).

My little niece (10) is getting so aware of fashion. It’s just adorable. And she knows what she wants! Bright colours, and plenty of bling. I’ve promised her a halter neck top (one of those ones that go ‘round your neck, as she described it to me). She’s already scouted one out at Foschini’s Kids. Can’t wait for her and I to go and buy it. She’s so darling. Definitely think of her as the daughter I never had. (Don’t tense up, I’m not going to use the opportunity to start bellyaching again about baby-stuff).

About that though, I had a re-think about my blog and packing out on it. Thing is, I need to pack out, that’s the way I’m programmed. And far better to pack out on my blog, than to a real, unfortunate person. I mean, I’m not forcing anybody to read my blog. Not like in real life, where they’re a captive audience for my tale of woe. In real life, you can’t hit that delicious exit button.
I’m not really a diary-keeping type of person. Not for want of trying. It appeals to the romantic side of me. But I could never sustain one for any length of time. Until the blog thing got me in its grip. I LOVE posting on my blog. Love reading blogs, too. I’m ashamed to say that I get a voyeuristic little thrill out of it.
But I’ve really been flabbergasted by the healing powers of posting stuff that is bothering me on the net. It’s even BETTER than offloading to a real person. Can’t understand it. Don’t want to understand it, just know that it works. Who needs psychotherapy when you have a BLOG? Anyway, the one time I went to see a councilor, she hardly said a word. She didn’t get a chance. I’d barely been introduced, when I sat down on her couch and bawled, gulping out bits of what was bothering me in between sobs. When the time was up, I felt loads better, blew my nose, smiled goodbye, and off I went. (She’s a lovely person, I’ve stayed in touch with her).
So obviously all I need is just to get whatever’s troubling me off my chest, and I’m good to go.
When everything is going well with me, I hardly go near my blog. As soon as there’s trouble, however, I’m at the computer as fast as my legs (and sacro-illiac joint) can carry me. I have no intention of stopping, either. I felt a bit shy of how boring my blog must be, when all I ever talk about is MS. Then it occurred to me: WHO CARES? No-one is being forced to read. And it’s not like I’m trying to win the Nobel Prize for Literature. I’ve met some great people, I feel better, what more do I need? And best of all: IT’S FREE.

Let me just finish this post by saying how much I love Marion Keyes. I’m reading her new book ANYBODY OUT THERE? for the second time. I think she’s the best writer ever, I want to BE her.
What’s strange, though, is that there are a lot of people that don’t like her. Obviously a lot that do, because she’s a bestselling author. But how can anyone not like her writing? It’s brilliant. Humourous and very insightful and touching, all in one go. I’d give my eye-teeth to write a book like any of hers. (Not my back molars, as I no longer have them. Long story).
Still, viva la difference! People can read, or not read, whatever they like.
I really like Chick Lit. But only the very good ones, like Helen Fielding (Bridget Jones), Cecilia Ahern (PS I Love You), anything by Carole Matthews and of course, Marion. Also loved Alison Pearson’s I don’t know how she does it. Don’t give me chick-lit written by a guy, though. What do they know? Chancers.
I have read a couple of more heavy-weight books in my life. Gone With the Wind remains up on a pedestal for me, and I did slog my way through The Fountainhead, and Pride and Prejudice (which was the chick-lit of its day, mind you). So I’m not a total flake. Even though I do love historical romance, from time to time. Okay, I’ll concede that point, maybe I am a bit flaky. Still, nothing wrong with that. It’s my favourite chocolate.
That was lame, sorry.But I’m not afraid to say Chick-lit ROCKS. I’m not one for academic, brainiac thrillers. I want to have a giggle and a good cry, is that too much to ask?

Baaaa.

I'm feeling back to my old, no-nonsense self. And as such, I am feeling increasingly sheepish about the way I've been acting the past week. Like, boo-hoo, everybody feel sorry for me. Cringe.

Less than 48 hours to go till I get to see the chiropractor. And with each minute that passes, bringing me closer to the appointment, the pain recedes a little more. Ty-pic-al! However, there is no way that I'm cancelling that appointment.
That is probably the main reason that I'm feeling more sane and more civil. The fact that I'm not is such constant pain. It does tend to help.

I got a lovely surprise yesterday. Michael's aunt and cousin sent me beautiful flowers, with a lovely card. So very thoughtful and sweet of them. Really made my day. They (the flowers) arrived in the most charming pot. I'm ordinarily not that much of a flowers girl, but the pot was filled with rose-buds, which I absolutely love. I never even knew how much I loved them, but when I saw these, my toes just curled from pleasure. It's so nice to have such lovely people in my life.

My friend, Donna, who I think is just great has the most marvellous Christmas Project on the go. Please follow the link and go check it out and support her. http://donna.innereyes.com/2006/12/02/pay-it-forward/

Proudly Safrican

I love the South African Flag.
It's got to be the funkiest, most distinctive flag in the world.

I went onto PayPal's website, and was looking for SA on the list of countries they service. When my eye caught our flag, I nearly gave a yelp of delight. It stood out from the other, boring flags and I felt a rush of patriotism.

I want to order something from the States. I've been meaning to do so for ages, but I've been buggering around with it. I want to order a proteolytic enzyme by the name of Serrapeptase. It's actually not expensive, only $15 plus shipping. It's not prescription meds, or anything. More like a supplement. Originally derived from silkworms, it is the enzyme they use to 'melt' their cocoons when they metamorph into moths. The enzyme doesn't harm living tissue, just the dead matter of the cocoon.
There has been some success with ms, using this enzyme, as it breaks down the dead, scar tissue of the brain-lesions, thus allowing new tissue to grow, and hopefully retracing the steps a bit. Reversing disabilty, even, if you are lucky. Certainly worth a try, as it is a natural product and contains no adverse side-effects.

Count me in. Natural = good, in my book.

That reminds of an ad I saw in the junkmail. "Lose weight the way nature intended", it read. And then underneath, in smaller print, "Only one injection per day... all natural ingredients...blah blah..."
What a joke.
The way nature intended, surely, is to eat less McDonalds, more salads, and to occasionally get off your bum and do some exercise. Not that I have done any exercise whatsoever in the past four years. And it shows. I'm not overweight, as such, but terribly out of shape. I really need to tone up. Chance would be a fine thing, if my hips would just give me a gap. (Now that's what I'd call a cast-iron alibi). Guess I could eat less though...? Naaaaa.

Saturday night...live.

The party was very nice. I think my dad enjoyed his birthday. He is looking relly good for 64. Obviously I have really fantastic genes.

(For the record, I very much doubt that my genes have anything whatsoever to do with me being sick. I am convinced that I am sick because of the property I grew up on, which was polluted by mining activity in the area. Why do I think this? Only because no less than 3 people have been diagnosed with MS in the same area, way less than a kilometer in radius. I think your chances of having MS are one in a million, yet three people on one farm hit the jackpot. Doesn't that sound a bit fishy? I think I should mention it to the ms SA society. They might be interested in investigating for ms research purposes. Where is Erin Brokovich when you need her?

I loved visiting with my sisters and mom today. Had a really great time. Also, I exhibited willpower that I didn't know I possessed! I declined some assorted Nestlé chocs. Those irresistable ones that are miniature versions of Aeros, Rolos, Texes, Peppermint Crisps, etc. Adorable. Then I passed on the delicious choc birthday cake, and later, at my parents-in-law's house, my all-time favourite, Lammingtons. If I could do that, then I'm obviously invincible. Yay.

Actually, though, it's not really supreme willpower at all. It's plain, good old-fashioned fear that is making me such a good girl. Thing is, my arm is going lame (brand, spanking new symptom). And you know how I said I have to start focusing on what I can do to help me? Well, eating well is the very least I can do. And that means cutting sugar out, before I turn into a diabetic, a serious risk for cortisone junkies such as myself. Seriously, it's listed as one of the side-effects of the medicine. And if I really am gearing up to take a whopping dose, better that I respect that.

My hip is feeling better. Or slightly less screwed, anyway. I'm still counting down the hours till I can see my chiropractor, though. Good people, chiropractors. Should have married one, if I knew what was good for me. Only kidding. Why would you want to put up with a man's sh*t just because he can put your hip back in its socket, when you can pay someone to do it. Crazy idea that.

Can't wait for my order of goodies to arrive. Two books, a Maeve Binchy and a Cecelia Ahern. Two of my favourite authors. They are both Irish. I love Irish writers, Marian Keyes being my favourite.

Then there's two cd's, the soundtrack to Carousel, which is my grandparents' Christmas gift. Also a cheap 60's hits cd, which I bought for Del Shannon's Runaway, which I have developed a little obsession about. Can't wait.

I'm a lot less stressed than I was, thank goodness. I kept clenching my hands into fists the whole time, which I've noticed has stopped. It's a ms thing. My fingers are numb, and that's why I clench them. Just to feel something.

I asked Michael to take some photo's of me, because I wanted to update my user-pic, in honour of updating my blog to the new, improved blogger. So he took the photo's, with me draped over the couch. I had to laugh when I saw them. Thank goodness I never got it into my head to become a model. I've never seen such spastic poses before in my life. Michael took some at a very low angle and I dropped my head just about onto my chest. Which he said was a mistake as it gave me a distinct double-chin. But I looked like I was having a good time, so I included them for a laugh.

Yeah, I'm feeling better alright...

Thank heavens that I am quite an emotionally robust person.
It would just have been too much to bear if I was physically a mess, and not emotionally resilient enough to cope with it. Let’s be grateful for small mercies here.
I certainly have my moments (such as this whole week, come to think of it), but generally I can cope with it all. With a little help from my friends.
(Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends…)

I’m feeling very determined at the moment. I may be going down but it certainly won’t be without a fight. There is a lot I can do to help myself, and it’s time I started focusing on that.

I had a think about the little temper tantrum I threw a couple of days ago, right here on my blog, where I performed about people in my life expecting too much from me. I think I’d better qualify that remark. Truth is, most of the people in my life are incredibly understanding and undemanding of me. Sorry to say, the main culprit here is…me! I need to learn to say ‘no’ to myself. I’m the one that expects too much of myself. I’m the one that expends energy I don’t have. I should wake up and smell the coffee.

I love having a blog to misbehave on. I would never act in real life the way I have been lately on ze blog. I do feel a bit cringey about things that I aired, but hey, it was worth it. Much better to offload onto cyberspace than to lower the tone for everyone who has the misfortune to speak to me on a ‘down’day. Yay for the internet.
On the other hand though, I can’t remember who all I’ve given this link to. I gave it out willy-nilly, before I got comfortable enough to say things that ordinarily I’d keep to myself. Sooo, I may have to do a runner, and move to a more secluded spot in virtual reality, where I can rant and rave to my heart’s content, and not have to worry that everyone in my life is potentially reading all this crap that I’ve been posting when I feel hard done by.

About the baby issue, thank you to Heidi for her comment. It makes me just want to grab the bull by the horns (metaphorically) and get pregnant. I’m sooo tempted. Like, really. I’m keen. I want two little girls just like you, Heidi, and to go into remission. If only I had the guts…

BTW, my hips are feeling the teensiest bit better. Probably because I did less than nothing today. If I can just make it till Tuesday, when the lovely chiropractor will put my hip back in its joint…Tomorrow is my dear daddy’s birthday. Most of my family will be there. Should be a lot of fun.