Well sometimes it’s good to have a waiter that knows you . Our waiter tonight was someone who was in a few of my college classes, and an unfortunate victim of my pencil projectiles when my hands would spasm. Funny enough that throughout my college career by the third day of classes my classmates were always on the look out for incoming leaded missiles, but tonight I was just thankful that of all the things my hand decided to suddenly toss was my spoon and not my knife . And since my waiter knew me, he expertly caught the spoon before it could hit the oblivious diner behind me.

My poor DH looked on in abject horror as my fingers flipped the spoon up into the air and was shocked when the waiter smooth as could be caught the spoon and handed it right back to me with a chuckle. We had to explain to my DH that we had been classmates and in apology for the number of pencils that flew his way during class I tutored him. And when he brought our steaks out he was nice enough to ensure my plate was set in front of my DH to cut it, and did so very nicely so as to not attract attention from the other diners that sharp implements would not be my friends tonight .

Ugh, this is a mischief I could do without, but oddly makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something.... years and years ago (gosh do I feel old now) I would get sudden shin splints. Appearing out of nowhere popping like eggs up on shins that would bruise and swell and last for months and then the swelling would go down and I’d have a dent in my shin for another month or two before the whole cycle would begin again. The only thing that stopped them from occurring was... breaking my back and tearing multiple tendons and ligaments in my ankles and knees to the point of walking more than around the house became nearly impossible, but hey at least no more shin splints the plague of my existence since age 6.

Then last year, I finally had enough with the spasms and rigidity and bit the bullet on getting the baclofen pump. By then most days even getting around my house was a challenge most days, and I used my wheelchair pretty much exclusively whenever I left the house, honestly I didn’t think there was any more harm a surgical oops could do at that point. And thankfully there was no oops, aside from an allergic reaction to the pain meds immediately following the surgery and over the weekend which left me feeling the full pain of 21 stitches for 48 hours until my doctors office opened on Monday.

A month later the pump got filled for the first time, and I spent two weeks on a diet of devil dogs and marshmallows due to plummeting blood sugar, they took me off the gabapentin to fix that, and I was basically off to the races. My body was listening to me again. The tearing of the tendons and ligaments actually had a chance to heal some and each day I was able to do so much more than the day before. I healed up enough for the start of spring to get my garden in order, by April my wheelchair was all but put away , I’ve lost 4 dress sizes, helped my uncle with some deconstruction of an old trailer on his lot, took my grand baby to the zoo and actually walked all around with her (ok Nama needed a long soak and slept for a day and a half afterwards but still).

Needless to say I WAS feeling better than I have ever felt in my life, and then last week the dreaded shin splints made their valiant return and as it is 1:30 in the morning and I’m writing this rather than tucked up sleeping soundly, I can say they have definitely returned with a vengeance. Drawing me from my slumber last night with a sudden and exceptionally sharp pain searing it’s way up and down my shin bone with every tiny movement.

I know I should feel a bit discouraged, even perhaps worried over this new pain, and yet I find myself chuckling even as I gasp in pain, because it really does feel now like I got my old life back. Rather sad, I’ll admit, but seriously from age 6 to age 27 shin splints were my near constant companion, never once deterred by any amount of physical therapy and to have them back again... well it’s like meeting that weird cousin no one ever talks about at a family reunion and feeling slight relieved to know he’s alive still so you won’t be called on to offer your condolences over his passing, and yet spend the rest of the time avoiding eye contact at all costs while offering fevered prayers to the powers that be that they never come over to talk to you.

Okay maybe not the best analogy but give me a break, it’s going onto 2 am on my second day of little sleep

So today (well really yesterday I suppose ) I had an oddly good laugh at the doctors office. Short doctor over the office is a gp and trained sports medicine doctor. We got off on the wrong foot when we first met, as he told me the “usual MS” and sounded like he was quoting from a daytime soap opera script for “usually”. So needless to say as first impressions went, his was absolutely terrible. He did treat my DH a few times and redeemed himself slightly there as he showed he was actually knowledgeable about quite a few things, MS however was not one of them .

But with the shin splits I knew any other gp in the group I saw would refer me to him so why waste time. So I made an appointment with him and waited trying not to roll my eyes when he walked in. I had gotten an X-ray the day before seeing him and had already reviewed the films, the bone was fine and there was no fluid showing to indicate a cyst or infection to explain the knot on my shin. Not to mention 21 years experience with a constant occurrence of the very same shin splints which isn’t the tearing of muscle from bone resulting in stress fractures and chipping, but muscle herniated by muscles.

And he was shockingly good at remembering he didn’t have to talk to me like I didn’t have a clue about anything medical. But more than that he confessed to reading up more on MS . And told me he would still love to say “usually with MS...” but after reading up on it some more he came to realize there really was not a “usually” at all. , but despite there not really being a usually for all, in my case yes, usuallly... with the muscle spasms I was correct in my assumption that the shin splints were the result of my increased activity building up the muscles. And while yes surgery was an option to correct the problem but with MS it comes with its own special set of complications *cough* usually *cough*.

Poor guy couldn’t let that word go . So long and short of it is, I get an Afo for my right leg know to cause kind of a pseudo atrophy of it to allow the muscles to weaken enough to slide back into place and it becomes a wear as needed sort of deal, ever couple of weeks or so, throwing it on for a couple of weeks to maintain my activity level without strengthening the leg muscles.

Usually

Well got to visit with the GB, he daddy brought her up for a little Christmas with us, he’s not related to us other than through the GB, but a great guy all the same... anyways onto the mischief . So the GB runs into the house and gives my mom Gigi a big leap into the arms hug, gives my dad a gentle hug, leaps into DH arms for a big hug and comes up to me and asks with all the seriousness of a 5 year old “are you broke today Nama?”.... nope.... leaping hug.

So her dad asks what she said because he missed it as he was putting stuff up. And she turns to him and says “Nama has MS daddy, some days she broken and some days she’s not, I can’t jump on her when she’s broken or we both will be broken. But even when she’s broken she can still fix anything!”

So she rushes to her toys she brought up all the ones needing mending, and I start on those while she watches me sew on buttons, fix Barbie dresses, get doll hair brushed out all smooth again, fix the ear on her zebra.... she loves bringing me projects, and of course she’s telling me all the things she “needs” me to make her next year if I’m not too broken.

And that night she decided she didn’t want to sleep on the guest bed with her daddy because he’s allergic to our cats and didn’t want them on the bed. Couldn’t let her sleep on the tile floor, so I grabbed the mattress to the rollaway bed and brought it into the guest room, and my GB grinning ear to ear tells her daddy “See I told you Nama can fix anything! Well except herself”

A bit of an old mischief . My primary doctor was the one my insurance wanted to sign off on my getting a baclofen pump, for whatever reason they didn’t want to hear the neurologist suggesting it . Anyways, my primary at the time was somewhat skeptical, of course she wasn’t the one treating the spasms or even feeling them or testing my reflexes and such. She would question the amount of muscle relaxers I took and I would always explain that EVERY muscle in my body spasmed.

So during one visit she noted that I had not had a Pap smear done in some time. I explained that the first and last one I had ended with my having a bladder infection and yeast infection that took almost a month to recover from, i have never had any irregularities to my cycles, neither I nor my partner slept around ever in our lives both of us only having been with virgins prior to each other and zero family history of cancer. Basically if it’s not broke why break it with foreign objects in places they don’t belong?

She assured me I would not have the same problem again, everything would be sterile one time use, and given my vast number of allergies even the lubricant would be a water-based free of latex, silicone, petroleum, parabens and SLS. But please, please let me check you even if it’s just the once, she had lost too many patients who didn’t feel the need to get checked.

Fine, so I scheduled one, with great apprehension but figured okay, I’ll flush before hand with plenty of cranberry juice and yogurt, and continue to do so afterwards and maybe just maybe I won’t be sick as a dog for a month afterwards. I go in for the appointment and she asks if I have ever been pregnant before including miscarriages. Nope, and asks if I’m sexually active. I explain that yes I am, married after all, but since intercourse is painful for me it’s not frequent.

So she asks about the pain with intercourse obviously thinking I’m speaking of pain in my v, I tell her no, it’s painful in that if I achieve orgasm I end up with a sprained ankle, knee, hip, wrist, pinched nerve in my neck, shoulder, back and so on. She kind of laughed and asked what kind of sex my DH and I are into, and laughing I told her, no that’s just good old fashion missionary, haven’t gotten to enjoy any kind of kink since before we were even married.

So she decided to go with the smallest duckbill, still thinking I was exaggerating about sex having sent me to the ER on more than one occasion. So she gets it inserted and turns to get her instruments when we hear an echoing “Snap”. She turns back around and sees the poor tiny duckbill broken snapped in half with its plastic cracked. She was shocked, had never seen that before, but thinks well maybe it was defective. So she removes it and inserts another one, halfway through her exam, Snap, again. Only this time she was able to see the muscles contract and crush the poor thing.

I just started laughing as I told her, see! EVERY muscle in my body spasms, terribly. She then asks me, when I would like to get my bacofen pump, and being a bit cheeky asks if sex has sent my poor husband to the ER as well. Still chuckling I told her yes actually once with a bruised p, but afterwards we knew what it was and how to treat it at home. By weeks end the specialist for my baclofen pump was calling to arrange my trial.

And I have to say since getting it all set sex hasn’t sent either of us to the ER nor required home treatment and my DH and I finally get to enjoy a “honeymoon” period 18 years after saying “I do”

In 2013 I went to a specialist in Chicago for setting up breast biopsies after having bleeding from my left side for weeks. Two funny things happened, but not really related to MS. First, the young woman, a brilliant teaching surgeon, squeezed my breast and blood squirted out all over the place.

Next, she sent in two young men, interns, to ask me questions about my medical history. They knew my age (55), and that I'd had a hysterectomy in December 2000. Then they asked if I had breastfed my babies, yes. I confirmed. When was the last time I'd breastfed? "About a week ago."

The one guy starts writing that down. The other looks up to see me with a big grin, soon we all start laughing. A great way to lighten the mood, lol.

BTW, it all turned out benign.

Glad it was benign, and really funny how it seems primarily the male doctors who can only either focus on writing or what you’re saying lol.