This is real life...

"When life hands you lemons, make lemonade."  That is complete BS!  Who even said that anyway?  Right now I feel like life is throwing lemons at my face and I want to take my tennis racket and knock the juice out of them.  Who decided the best idea is to take the bad and spin it for the good?  Why can't I just be angry for a little while?  Why can't I get it all out?  You know what?  I can.  And, I will.  People tell me all the time I have the best attitude, nope, not today.

So here is my plan (when you write it down you have to do it, right?)
     1.)  I will write my plan ✔.  And, as I write my plan it will be fast and messy.  Maybe, I will press so hard I will break the pencil too.  Maybe, it will missing commas and words, why should I care, I'm not getting a grade?  Although today I feel life has given me a grade.  Life has graded me a "T" for tired, a big fat "T".  I am so tired.  I am tired of calling my doctors and saying, "so sorry to bother you but..." (although they don't seem to mind.) I am tired of smiling and telling people, "I'm great" when all I want to do is lay down.  I am tired of feeling guilty because I don't feel well and even though I am a stay at home I can't work the book fair because kids with simple viruses seem likely to cause me to have pneumonia.  But what I am most tired of is the unknown.  It seems like everyday something new hurts or I develop a weird twitch or some other stupid thing.

     2.)  I am going to scream and then probably cry.  No one is home right now.  Our kids are at school and my husband is out busting his butt working for us because 4 kids are expensive.  Unfortunately, I am not much help in that area either.  They eat a ton, and for some reason they have feet that grow every 10 minutes.  Let me tell you this folks those shoes are like car payments now too!  Thank the good Lord Todd never flinches about taking care of them when it comes to this stuff either.  Even though I am super angry today I am still very thankful especially for my family.

Today, I am going to tighten every muscle in body (even the ones that hurt) and I am going to scream as loud as I can, "I hate you NMO!"  Then, I am going to cry and get it out, every last bit of it.  One of my bffs, Phoebe told me "crying was therapeutic and being tough all the time wasn't." She was correct.  No worries though because autoimmune illnesses seem to pile up on top of each other and my body also gifted me with Sjogren's syndrome so I won't have a ton of tears rolling out.

     3.)  I am keeping my PJ's on ALL day, well until about 2:50 when I leave to go get the kids.  I am also going to take a nap.  I never take naps because I feel guilty about it.  I feel guilty because my contribution to the family is not financial.  I feel guilty because usually our house seems like a mess and since I stay home I should keep it neat and tidy (Leave it to Beaver style).  I feel guilty because even though I do laundry all the time we still have 84648916 loads to do.  Seriously, how do they dirty so many clothes?

Today, I am exhausted, obviously angry and just don't want to deal with it.  Today, I am completely over it!  I quit!  My body obviously went on strike a long time ago so today my attitude is joining it!
So, until 2:50 when I leave to get my kids I guess NMO wins.  It beat me, I hate it.  But when I get my kids I'll take my life back and start working on beating it in extra rounds, extra innings, overtime, the 3rd set or whatever sports analogy works for you.  Feel free to insert it.

This is real life people.  I do not always have a great attitude like I have been told.  Today I am whiny and I am not apologizing for it.  Today my glass is half empty.  I don't really feel well (yep, I said it.)  I have fever again for absolutely no reason.  I am 44 years old and I have to cath myself, my head pretty much always hurts, my eyes are usually so dry I have to physically open them with my fingers in the morning.  It is dumb!  No one should have to deal with this stuff.  I worry every day my kids will get one of these stupid diseases.

Every one needs a vice.  I don't smoke, I don't drink (I even gave up Diet Coke because my bladder is a loser!)  Today my vice is anger and self pity!

For now NMO wins but at 2:50 it better watch out because I am going to be well rested and refreshed.  I am going to take those stupid lemons and make them into the sweetest glass of lemonade it's ever had.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot!  I am also going to eat a giant bowl of Neapolitan Ice Cream and I am not going to feel one bit guilty about it!

Oh the irony....

I hope you are sitting down because I am about to blow your mind!  I have a terrible UTI…again!  Guess what? This time I am mad.  Mad and miserable.  What a combination, a mad and miserable one eye woman who occasionally drags her left leg and right at this moment can not stand up completely straight because my kidneys have had enough of me.  What a picture!  Raise you hand if you see a pirate telling this story.  I do!  I just need a jug of “ale” and Johnny Depp on my arm and I would be all set! 

This time I can’t really blame my NMO for all of it.  This time it’s on me.  We have had so much going on lately I just decided to ignore all my symptoms.  My thought was either it will go away, or I would call the doctor as soon as we got through with Trick or Treat, or tennis tournaments, or school parties, or whatever else all those picture-perfect moms do.  Honestly folks I am just sick of being probed!  I already probe myself 3 times a day and in case you missed it, it sucks!  Not to mention I just did not have the enthusiasm to sit in a paper-thin gown and watch the hair on my legs grow while I froze to death.  Nor was I sure if my unmentionable parts were ready to greet a doctor when he walked in the room.  Seriously it goes like this:  paper gown, tiny paper blanket, “hello” medical staff (my face is up here), get probed while they promise it will only hurt a little (fake news) and antibiotic.  Not to mention my medical history which takes for ever to explain if they have a new nurse.  God bless her, I’d probably want to throat punch someone like me if I had to take their history. 

As we have discussed before I am practically a doctor.  Especially since Direct TV started showing all the seasons of “ER” again.  That plus “Greys Anatomy” come on, where’s my stethoscope?  Due to my advanced knowledge I could just riffle through the medicine cabinet and find enough old Amoxicillin and Cipro to make at least a full 5 days!   Calm down Mom (she really is a doctor), I didn’t do that.  Antibiotics aren’t really a friend to a person with all my autoimmune issues so I always pray it is the right one.

A couple of my close friends who have had to hear, “The Tales of My Urethra,” have asked why the Botox didn’t resolve my bladder problems.  The Botox worked, it worked great!  I could jump on a trampoline and sneeze at the same time right now and not drip a drop.  Before I could just be sitting in my car and hear someone in the back-seat sneeze and lose some fluid.  I believe that is called, “overactive bladder by osmosis.”  So, I say with complete confidence, “Botox works,” and as a bonus I am pretty sure my bladder looks much younger too!

Since we last talked, I have also been to the neurologist.  In case I haven’t told you, he is great, and I have complete confidence in him.  Anyway, I have developed a new symptom that is referred to as an “MS hug.”  The irony in this is amazing.  I don’t hug.  At all.  My mom is all touchy feely, my dad is not.  Guess which one I am like?  On Christmas one of my mom’s gifts from me is a hug (I consider it the gift that keeps on giving).  For example, my cousin, T.E. is by far one of my most favorite people on the planet.  He is a few years older than me and for as long as I can remember I have thought he was fantastic!  I used to follow him around everywhere he went.  I drove him nuts.  I still do. We text funny messages. I text him questions (he is a doctor), and he makes me loads of peanut butter balls every Christmas.  My point to all this “Superhero T.E.” talk is that I don’t think I have ever hugged him, not one time.  Seriously friends, not one time!  

So, I have some stupid hug that many Multiple Sclerosis patients suffer from go figure.  I don’t even have MS.  But I do have its evil cousin, NMO.  This hug is just how it sounds, a suffocating squeeze around my chest that not only hurts but makes me feel like I can’t breathe and then I get anxious.  Hugs are taunting me.  It’s like they (the hugs) are getting revenge on me for every time I would see someone at Target but acted like I didn’t, so we wouldn’t have to hug “hi.”  It is a very cruel symptom and further proves that hugs are evil!  They spread germs, place you awkwardly in someone’s chest, inevitably sniffing their hair that desperately needs washed.  Most importantly though they suffocate me!  So, guess what?  There is a pill for that.  

If you are counting, that is 2 new issues and 2 new pills.  If good things come in threes, then what in world is next?

But you know and I know it could always be worse.  Truthfully, it could have been better much quicker.  Like I said, I waited and waited to even call the doctor.  I am beyond “peeing in cup” and the longer I wait the more my body hates me.  I felt the UTI coming on like gangbusters but, and wait for it people, my 10-yr. old daughter was playing in her 3^rd tennis tournament in Lexington and I was not about to miss that!  I am that parent.  My loving father calls me a, “Little League Mom,” all the time.  And, listen carefully…I don’t care.  I love watching our four kids do anything from painting a picture to playing in a tournament.  Everything they do is awesome.  While it goes without saying, they get all their skills from me.  I sit in the chairs or bleachers and watch like they are winning the lottery.   But when they are done, I am also the mom who speaks the truth.  I’ve said things like, “You played great!  Too bad they played better” or “Geez your serve really stunk today.”  I think one of my greatest moments came when Jack was 8.  He was a tiny, round, asthmatic kid who tried so hard, but basketball just wasn’t his calling.  Right about the time the gym became completely quiet I stood up (I was possessed) and I yelled, “Get the glue off of your feet!”  I still hear about that one from time to time.   In case you missed it, I am vey competitive.  

Anyway, I took my chance on my bladder getting worse because Olivia needed to play in that tournament and no way was I missing it.  That’s right, this time it was Lexington but next time I am sure it’s Wimbledon, why else would she have to be in that tournament.  On changeovers, I would run to the bathroom and occasionally cath myself (I am that good at it now, jealous?)  At one point I walked outside using the excuse, “I can’t watch this, it’s horrible tennis.”  Yes, friends instead of saying my urethra was trying to kill me I said 10-year-old tennis was “bad tennis”.  Thank the good Lord my mom was there, and she played an Oscar Award winning, “Proud Ma-Ma”.  She was able to talk to the other family (who numbered 9!!! what in the world) and when they would brag, she would brag and show an iPhone picture to back it up, Ma-Ma-1, Party of 9-0!  I’m never rude (unless I have no choice lol) but I want to watch and not talk, especially that day.  I do talk and from time to time I’ve been known to call someone out.  I absolutely love (insert sarcastic grin) the “out loud” critiquing parents talking about other kids and I especially love it when it’s about my child.  I usually say something like, “that’s my child out there so maybe talk a little quieter.”  I am that mom and I’m not sorry.  I am also that mom who loves every little thing my child does, and I won’t allow them to suffer because my body isn’t 100%, or right now even 75%. 

Our kids have worked very hard to get as good as they have in a short amount of time.  It isn’t their fault that I have NMO.  I have said from Day 1 of this crappy diagnosis that I won’t allow my family to suffer because of it.  One of my greatest fears is that when our children get older they will only remember me as being sick.  I have always said, “the greatest gift God has given me is to make me a mother.”  He blessed me with 3 and a bonus, and I won’t let Him down.  I won’t let them down either.  You see when NMO attacks me I refuse to let it attack my family too.  It won’t beat me.  So, from now on when it “hugs” me I am going to just hug it back.  Heck, I might even kiss it on the cheek and tell it to kiss me somewhere else.