The Night before...

Tommorrow, I start a new treatment for my M.S.

For those of you who read my blog, you'll know I hardly ever talk about having M.S, part of that is physchologically, sometimes I don't want to acknowledge it, I don't want to give a name to this disease that is eating away (mildly at the moment, but maybe worse in the future) at my brain and spinal chord.

Tommorrow I start daily injections, administered by myself of a drug called Copaxone. This drug, could potentially reduce the possible future disability I may suffer. I mst admit, I have a deep sense of trepidation about tommorrow: to me there's something unatural about being taught to inject yourself, in effect to puncture yourself with a foreign substance daily. (those of you with piercings will think I'm being oversensitive I know!)

As I said though, to start daily injections, is to in one way admit this disease is happening in me, even in the times I feel "fine", the times when I look healthy and have energy. In fact, all the time.

Two incidents made me realise that I had to do something about my M.S.

One, is happening at the moment.

I have had a recurring symptom, happening every five or so minutes in a day, where I get a rush of dizziness down one side of my body, starting at the top of my head. What is more frightening, is that if I happen to be having a conversation during it, I ten to slur my words, or even stop, because I find it difficult for my mouth to form the words, and make a sound like "mmwwwwwmmmpphhhhh", which sounds funny, but is very frightening, if it's happening to you.

The other, is a silly little "moment" I had on the bus on the way into work. I was preparing to stand up to get off the bus, as it had reached my stop. Usually, when you think a thought, you start a process, and before the thought has left your consciousness, as it were, you have already performed the task. As I was thinking "I must get up now", I suddenly realised I was still sitting down, and had not moved.

To other people, this brief pause for the tiniest of mili-seconds might seem a bit dramatic, but to me, I was immediately aware that something wasn't right. My legs hadn't responded during the thought process, they'd "waited" until after I had finished making the thought.

As I said, to you this might not seem important, but to me it was a very frightening experience, as in a tiny way, I'd been reminded that i wasn't working completely right.

I hope that I can summon the strength tommorrow to overcome my fears and learn to inject myself. This new treatment could have a welath of positive outcomes long term for me, and I need to grasp hold of that as I think about tommorrow. I'm very very daunted.