To those who know me, this is no surprise.

     Poetry can be boring, intimidating, enjoyable, silly, inspiring, or even maddening. To this former English teacher, poetry is my favorite form of catharsis when dealing with multiple sclerosis. At the time of my diagnosis, I took to poetry to help me vent my frustrations with what would become this MesS. Even now, when I start to feel my symptoms raise their ugly heads, I will take the moment to write about it in verse. 
     What follows are some of my past creations, a brief description, and then a new addition. At times I might share a poem, or some lines, by another author, but unless otherwise expressed, these poems are my own, original creations.

Sonnet 1: The signs arrive

It all began with such a simple pain:

The hurt, the ache, and the gait would subside.

The idea of a pinched nerve turned the tide.

A surgeon proved that suspicion mundane.

The signs and feelings were now all made plain.

A constant doom will now, with me, reside,

With a lack of feelings did I collide,

Followed by thoughts that my life will wane.

The idea of a life fully shaded,

Stuck with needles and MRIs galore,

Hobbling and stumbling in a drunken daze.

There were times when I felt somewhat jaded.

A life of joy, I could expect no more.

I was doomed to walk through life in this haze.

-2007-

     I wrote this sonnet as the first in a series that I've begun about this MesS. This was the introduction to how I felt at the time MS wad suspected, then later confirmed. 

     This sonnet came to me with the recent release of a new drug Ocrevus(Ocrelizumab). Until now there was no medicine that had been proven to help with primary progressive multiple sclerosis (PPMS). The release of this new medicine was a game changer on so many levels.

Sonnet 11 Ocrevus Arrives
I have tried so many medications.
Only working adequately, short term,
Falling short of meeting most expectations,
And leaving me in a state more infirm.

The fear of, "Progressive," is in my mind.
A wheelchair will approach me rapidly,
Only as a cripple I'll be defined.
I think how my life will pass vapidly.

Then, on the horizon, a new hope appears,
Carrying news of promise, good results
That begin to relieve some of my fears.
With a less grim future, my heart exults.

Reality returns me to the ground
Stating that a cure is yet to be found.
-04/25/2017-

Keep/Quit Fighting/Trying

Any combination works with those words.

     Despite living with this MesS for ten years, I still get surprised by events, symptoms, good news, and bad news.

Memory or, "Now, where was I?"
     Now, we all have had lapses in memory. Everyone goes through moments in which you lose your keys, or forget where you parked, or misplaced, "That one thing." I have had those moments as well. Yet with MS, not only are they more frequent, but also they're more severe. I don't just misplace keys; I lose them in my pockets. I don't just forget names, but I forget faces. It's still disturbing to see someone that I know but don't remember that I know. However, I am good at waiting in a conversation long enough to catch the name I'm missing.

Reading between the lines has taken a whole new meaning.
     Since high school I loved reading. I used to be able to read chapters at night and read assigned texts for class. In college I discovered even more authors, ideas, and styles. I fondly remember enjoying reading. Now, however, I'm lucky if I get through a chapter in a week. It's mainly due to my memory, but also to my inability to process properly. I don't like reading anymore mainly because it's a constant reminder of what I've lost and a gloomy prediction of what I will lose. But, I still refuse to quit entirely. I've had to read other blogs and articles in preparing for this. It just takes me longer, and often it takes me more than one try to read AND understand something.

Walking: heh. . . Walking
     It all started with a cane. Then that cane evolved into a rollator. The rollator is soon looking to become a walker. I know  wheelchair is on the horizon, but I need to win the lottery first so I can afford one. My mobility scooter still does well, and on the plus side, walking uses my arms so much that it's basically an upper body workout just to go 15 feet.

Gracias/Danke/Merci/Grazie/благодаря (Part 1)

No matter which word you prefer, they all mean the same thing: "Thank you."

     In 2007 my struggle officially began. After dealing with mental and physical symptoms that were first blamed on a pinched nerve, I went to see an MS specialist once numbness arrived.* Yet in that time so many people have been so helpful to me that I cannot thank them enough. So, here is part one.

     First, the greatest portion of my thanks goes to my wife. We dated in high school, despite going to different schools, then long distance through college, and now we've been married for 13 years. I am constantly in a state of profound wonder at the woman she is. When MS first came into our lives, it finally provided an answer to all of the haywire things that were happening. I still remember her tear stricken face as she read over the symptoms of MS, ranging from balance issues, to memory problems, to speaking difficulty, and said, "This explains so much!" That was almost ten years ago, and she still has stuck by my side through ALL of the problems that multiple sclerosis has thrown at us. I can say very seriously, confidently, and lovingly that I doubt I could have lasted even this short time with the MonSter if it weren't for my wife.

     Second, I would like to thank my dad. Of all who were upset at my diagnosis, despite his being the stereotypical, stoic, my diagnosis really upset my him and inspired him to use his most enjoyable recreation: cycling. Upon my diagnosis, my dad began looking into the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, specifically their Bike MS. Since then, dad has been faithfully fundraising for MS. In addition to riding for the National MS Society, dad also fundraises for them in other ways: hosting spaghetti dinners at our home church (Faith Fellowship Alliance); wrapping gifts each Christmas season at the local mall for a donation, and having fundraising sales with local businesses. There have been countless people that helped in this endeavour, and there are too many to name. So, I thank them all for helping the organizer, Gary Evitt-my dad, who also happens to be listed as their top fundraiser for the upcoming Escape to The Lake.

     Third, I have to thank my church family at the First United Methodist Church of Toccoa. When Missy and I started attending, my MS was well established in our lives. We also came to know others that also were familiar with it. But, the astounding thing about this church is their truly generous and Christ-like nature. There are far too many examples of FUMC's generosity to my family, but as a testimony to their good nature, two events. The first occurrence came about when my wife and I were looking into having a handicapped ramp installed on our front door because my walking had deteriorated so much that getting in and out of the house was taking me about 20 minutes to navigate three steps onto a concrete car port. We started by asking on Facebook for recommendations. Someone from the church read our question and contacted the pastor who called us to let us know the church builds ramps for those in need, free of charge and according to ADA specifications. The second event happened as a result of my aforementioned accident. The church got together, and within a week, assembled an afternoon luncheon fundraiser. They raised over $4,000! We were and still are in awe of their blessing.

     Don't allow MS to take away your faith in humanity. Our family has experienced so much benevolence at the hands of others that the good, by far, outweighs the bad. Sometimes it is dark, but even the darkest night ends.