Happy Valentines Day to You & Yours!

Well, it is Valentines Day - I wish whoever should read this post today - for you to have a wonderful day! ..And I hope that you all get to share it with your significant others too! I think any opportunity to share love, and be loved is important. As important and sacred as life itself. We must take time to "smell-the-roses", I will share my St.Valentines-Day story with you.


My Valentines Day this year (2013), started out with a... "BANG!"...Scratch ...Screech ...Thud! My family's 13yo black Lab "McKenzie" - beautiful, gentle, loving - having a fit - a panicked dog unable to stand on his all fours for the first time (like this)-in his life. Crazed commotion woke me up! I wasn't sure what was happening at first, I couldn't see him. But, I could hear him - in the faint light of the early morning, his motion eventually awakened my 16yo son JD, too! As we both looked into the wardrobe, we saw a helpless animal trying to make to-stand-up! 


We got him settled - eventually! A dog this old - has a high risk of having an "episode" like this, right! Even so - it bloody scared me and JD. After we cleaned him up, we gave him a 'once-over' and helped him over to his food-bowl - not hungry, ok. His water-bowl next. No. That's ok, so I thought I might take him for a walk outside, then. To get some fresh air (me too!). We got as far as the grass - it was damp with "dew", and "Mack" lost his step... And again... Another stumble. so, I called JD out to help him with his stride and gait. He walked alongside "Mack", like a tug-boat ushers a bulk-carrier around a harbour. We managed to walk him for no more than 30-paces, before he stumbled to his right. Drooped-over he looked like he wasn't "there".

We both looked at each other and my eyes welled-up. I was witnessing my mate - our family's companion - take a 'turn", I said to JD that 'I think he's had a "Stroke". So, we gently turned McKenzie back, into the house. Back to his favourite Pillow/Cushion - and JD, layed down with him on the floor. I went into the bedroom and had a moment to myself - sobbing. I was coming to the hard realisation, that my dog is on borrowed time! My wife J, and I had a quick "heart-to-heart" with our boys - TJ, JD, and LE. We made a safe place in the car for Mack to be comfortable, and we rang the Vet...


We made the dash to the Vet's. About a 20-minute drive. We were ushered straight into the clinic - and met the lady Vet, Erin. She was so gentle with McKenzie, and it was like he just melted into her hands - like their was a "magic-power" between them. The Sick & the Healer. It was a special moment for all of us! After a few tense minutes of Erin looking over every inch of Mack's frame and muscles. Down on the ground with him, she was like a 'mother' - gentle! All-the-while-she was whispering to him - calming him (and us too!), but still checking, feeling, analysing. Then after she was finished - she stood up. Well, she said... I want to take a blood sample, if that's ok? ...Yes, it was ok.


Afterwards, we got the news. It seems as though our hunch was right - a "Stroke". Somewhat to be expected, but never the less - a shock to 'our' system! We all had a little sob, again. But, Erin said .."There is some good news from all this. McKenzie's blood work-up is excellent"! His Heart, is in good shape. His lungs are fine, no fluid. Liver, great. Kidneys, good. He is in terrific condition for a dog of his years-(13+). We were in a kind of weird space! Happy-sad!

MacKensie is our hero! He does have a facial growth/tumour, which we'll have to treat palliatively, and he has "wonky" back legs from the 'stroke' too. But, we get to be blessed by a beautiful, black (& gray)-puppy for a while longer! However long that time is - we don't know. We just know that today was not his day to say goodbye to us!

The love of an animal is a blessing! 
Happy Valentines-Day, Mackenzie!

TM. A Neuro-Immunologic-Condition...

Transverse Myelitis

A l l   u p   t o - d a t e   i n f o r m a t i o n   o n   c l i n i c a l 
s t u d i e s   a n d   t r i a l s   c a n   b e   f o u n d   o n 
http://myelitis.org/research/clinical-studies-trials

For those of you, who are still reading this far - I thought I would just reprise an earlier post that I made, almost a year ago. I think it means so much - especially when you might be able to relate, as I have - to this remarkable, true story! (thank you Christine...)

read on.. 


Thank you for all the support, it's really amazing!  I've titled this post; "but you don't look sick...!" because it relates to a little yarn-of-truth called, "The Spoon Theory" written by Christine Miserandino, a complete stranger to me. Christine is living with 'Lupus' and I must sincerely thank her for helping me realise [my] pain isn't always felt by those I love and care about. And, that I have to take account of the decisions I make when it involves others, especially my family. I can relate to her story [me living with Transverse Myelitis]. I can also thank my wife 'Woodpuddle', for finding this yarn on the Internet and sending it to me, some time ago.

I want to share something with you that happened to me yesterday. My beautiful wife 'Woodpuddle' is so bloody patient with me! ...So yesterday, WP came up with the idea for all of us at the TRC-[my family] to go for a drive in to 'Southbank', then to Scouts - and I wanted to go along too. I was 'quizzed' by my dearest;"are you sure you're up to this?" I said; 'yep', nodding in the affirmative! Well, off we went in the car..it wasn't too long , before travelling-in-the-car become more [painful], than I realised. Pretty soon after that, I started to argue with everyone about the shortest-route to take! ..I didn't even think; 'Why am I arguing?' No, not even when my youngest - TJ said; 'I love it when you and Mum have a cranky with each other, it's so funny!'... 

But the thing is, I should've understood that "it just didn't matter" - we were just out for a FUN time!!! - Eventually, after a few minutes of awkward silence, 'The Penny-Dropped' and I apologised, very honestly to all my family. We continued to Southbank, then later to Scouts. The day was resurrected - looking back, I feel like a fool because I lost my cool. My wife new I probably wasn't up to a full day, just yet. I pushed myself  - and I'm paying for it, today - I am living the spoon-theory. Please read on...

"The Spoon Theory"
by Christine Miserandino   www.butyoudontlooksick.com

...My best friend and I were in the diner, talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.
As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me with an awkward kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have Lupus and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about Lupus. She came to doctors with me, she saw me walk with a cane, and throw up in the bathroom. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know?
I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn’t seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.
As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity. I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.
At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands.
I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted.
Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions. So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case Lupus, being in control.
She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become?
I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of “spoons”. But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out 12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn’t even started yet. I’ve wanted more “spoons” for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has Lupus.
I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As, she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do; I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said ” No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make your self something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can’t take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too.” I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Showering cost her spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon. I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If I have bruises that day, I need to wear long sleeves, and if I have a fever I need a sweater to stay warm and so on. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this.
I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons. I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s “spoons”, but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less “spoons”. I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a cold comes, or an infection, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on “spoons”, because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.
We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently. Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night.
When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained, that I didn’t even bother to add into this game, that she was so nauseous, that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.
I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly “Christine, How do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it. I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared.”
Its hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to. I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day’s plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count “spoons”.
After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can’t go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”
Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my “spoons”.
© Christine Miserandino