Just Beat It!

     As with many others who have to deal with this MesS, summer can be hell on earth-mainly due to the heat. From icy drinks, to cooling vests, to homemade cold immersion therapy, there are a few ways to beat the heat. Sometimes all that it takes is quick rest in the shade, and others will take a day of inactivity in the air conditioning. So, here's a brief listing of the life-hacks I've found that help me with summer's inferno.

• Cold Coffee: In the morning, yes a good, fresh, hot cup of coffee can really wake me up, and I am SEVERELY ADDICTED to caffeine. But, as the day progresses and the temperature escalates, the heat of the coffee outweighs the benefits of the caffeine. Luckily, many restaurants have developed the drink: Cold coffee. It's even easier to make at home. Just brew some coffee and add ice.
  
• Cold Immersion Therapy [Homemade]: Real cold immersion therapy is something that must be pursued with a doctor's or other medical professional's advice. My version is a little less intense. First, take a normal shower. Second, as the shower ends, slowly lower the water's temperature to as cold as you can stand, Finally, once rested, get out and get dressed feeling more energized.
  
• Sleep: Sometimes, when the AC is running full blast, a cat nap helps.

These are just a few of the ways I try to keep cool. Follow the links below and find even more.

National MS Society

MSAA

The Second and Eleventh

When I was first diagnosed, there really were only four available medicines for MS: Avonex, Bestaseron, Copaxone, and Rebif. At that time, I was terrified of needles, so I chose the one with the smallest gauge of needle. Looking back, after all the blood tests, IV infusions, and such, I cannot comprehend being scared of needles. So, here is my second sonnet. It's a note about my experiences with Betaseron.

Sonnet 2

The Injections Begin

My first choice was for the Beta-1B:

To be injected every other day.

The smallest gauge of needles set my way.

Stories of success make this step easy:

Injections are light, side-effects breezy.

With needles all set, I enter the fray,

Shots go smoothly, and the symptoms-away.

But depression grins at me savagely.

The depression subsides  with some good pills.

The first MRIs are now clean and clear.

I begin to think that all will be well.

The years go by, with some goods and some ills.

But then, an event comes which causes fear:

New problems, and my recovery fell.¹

-2010-

     Now, I get the chance to share my next attempt at creation with you. It was bad enough dealing with the accident that took me out of the driver's seat for a while. 
Sonnet 12: Accident
A wreck took me out of the driver's seat.
Months later I had to re-learn to drive.
But, I drove again; I had not been beat!
I felt like I was once again alive!

My driving skills have begun to revive 
The desire to regain what had passed:
A yearning to do more than just survive.
But a second wreck would leave me aghast.

My van has been restored to me at last.
My driving has now been fully restored.
Even though this wreck is now in the past,
Lessons from this wreck cannot be ignored.

Occasionally, the sky will turn grey.
I can't let myself to sink into dismay.
-04/29/2017

^{1. This poem is NOT an accusation or accolade of how Betaseron (interferon beta-1b) functions. It is merely an account of my own interactions with it. MS is so random that it is impossible to predict whether or not a medication will work. I am NOT against Betaseron.↩}

Who Thinks Like This??

About Me

Well, if you haven't yet figured it out: my name's Josh. I currently live in the northeastern corner of Georgia and have lived here since about 2002 (full time) and part time from 1998 through 2002, i.e., my college education. In 2003 I began teaching high school and married my high school sweetheart. In 2006, our first child was born, and in 2007 things changed. I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. In 2010 my teaching career ended, and by 2012 I was listed as, "Disabled." But, I never really liked that word, even before it was applied to me. So, I prefer to call myself a mandated retiree. In these few years, I've gone through, and put my family through, so much that I decided to share what has happened for two purposes. First, I want to vent my frustrations with this disease safely and quietly. Second, I miss being in a position to help people, and I hope to benefit, at least, one other person (even if it's only to chuckle at some cheesey stories). I cannot guarantee that you'll like, dislike, or even care about reading this, but I can guarantee that it'll be honest. So, with all that out of the way, I'll begin this blog officially by explaining the title: Daddy's On The Floor!
     I had thought that I had adjusted to my life as a 'mandated retiree'. I was still able to handle some things like changing my youngest's diapers, putting her down for a nap, and the like. But as she grew older, taller, and more adventerous, it became more and more difficult to keep up with her, and she knew it. 
     One afternoon, as I had just used my walker to get her into her crib for a nap, two disastrous things happened: my daughter woke up too early, and I fell. Now, those who are parents will understand the horrors of a baby not getting enough sleep at nap time. For those who do not know that experience, I'll just say that it's awful. Normally, I would have gone over to her and either sung (as badly as I can) or recited a poem (her favorite is Cædmon's Hymn) to lull her back to sleep. In this case, however, I was unable to move for my walker had rolled in the opposite direction that I had fallen, and my phone was also launched out of my reach. Seeing that I was not coming to comfort her, my daughter decided to attempt to climb out of her crib, screaming her frustrations at me each time I said, "No! Stay in bed," while trying to sound authoritative but looking like a turtle that's been rolled onto its back. Finally, after almost making it to my feet, and getting within an arm's reach of my walker, I fell again with an echoing, "THUD." 
     When I saw my daughter's redoubled efforts to escape her crib, I panicked and decided to try comedy. I looked at her, smiled, and said, "OH NOOO! Daddy's on the floor!" I altered my voice to add a comical sound to it and crossed my eyes, which to this day still makes her laugh. She was so entertained by my constant repetition that we were able to sit there for about 45 minutes, laughing and saying, "Daddy's on the floor!" until my wife got home from work, rescued our daughter from her crib, and helped me get back to my feet.