Get off the couch

I'm annoyed and this is a self-serving, petty post. There's your warning.

I like Facebook. I LOVE that I can interact with old friends and watch their children grow. It's a fun little realm. Increasingly, I am wondering if sites like this prevent real activism. Change my profile pic to join the fight against x cause. Change my status to join the fight against another. How does that help? It's inaction. It's less than lip service. Really. I need someone to explain it to me.

If you want to help a cause, please do something. Anything. Slacktivism is a slap in the face to the people who work hard to make political and social change. Doctors, police officers, social workers, volunteers and real activists (the ones donating real time and effort into causes) - these people are the ones making change. Not my Facebook status on any given day.

Want to support a cause? Find a fundraising campaign. Donate your money, or more importantly, your time. Research. Become educated. Get other people involved.

If you want to use social networking tools to be a nano-activist, try supporting causes that truly benefit from increased public attention.

A jpg of a Power Ranger doesn't change a damn thing in terms of joining a fight against child abuse. Neither does me telling the world my bra colour support breast cancer.

Expend your effort. Get your hands dirty. Raise funds. Volunteer. Get off your couch or stop pretending you are helping.

Sure, I might come off like an asshole here, but I'm an asshole who raises funds and donates to causes I support. 

I sleep in on Sundays

In my last post, I mentioned thanking deities and that got me thinking…

I myself don't thank deities. Nor do I praise them.

I don't believe in God.

I don't believe in any gods.

I don't pray to a divinity for thanks, strength or forgiveness.

I don't often talk about being an atheist (in public anyway) because I don't want to sound judgmental of other people or what they choose to believe. But this is my blog, after all, so I figured I'd jump in.

It wasn't always this way. I was born into a family that (mostly) believes. Well, my mother believes. I'm not sure what my father thinks about God or gods, but if he's a believer, he's certainly not devout. This balance gave me perspective growing up. On one side, I had my maternal family. Many of them churchgoers. Good, happy people. On the other side, I had my dad who would stay home on Easter Sunday and cook the turkey and prepare the vegetables while my mom bundled me and my brother off to Mass. Dad didn't seem any worse for wear for not kneeling on Sundays. Hmmm....

The first time I remember hearing the word "atheist" was on a family vacation, and I knew from my mother's tone that such a person was in the wrong. Not on the "good guys" team. Did not wear the white cowboy hat.

I went to Catholic school. I had religious calendars in my bedroom (me, P!nk, and the Virgin Mary have the same birthday!) and I said my prayers at night. I had (and still have) two pocket Bibles. I remember being in grade 7 or so and praying to God that He give me the divine inspiration to pass a math test. So, clearly, at some point, I was a believer. In full disclosure, I still find the Bible to be a fascinating book and I have read it cover to cover several times. I don't claim to understand the bears who maul children or the talking donkey, but I don't really think about them all that much.

As I got older I just stopped believing. I didn't stop believing in the goodness in the world, I just put my faith in fact. I developed my own opinions and observations. I won't get into why I'm an atheist here, but often happily take up the conversation when asked. Suffice it to say that it's not because of any single event or person. I didn't one day wake with MS and shake my fist at the sky asking why God had forsaken me. In fact, I was an atheist long before I had MS. I simply believe in biology, chemistry, and physics. I believe in nature and the sciences that uphold it.

If I had to compare my state of mind as a believer in my youth and my state of mind about religion now, I can firmly say that I'm happier now. I know that I do good things because I want to do good things, not for fear of damnation or heavenly rewards.

People have asked me why I still celebrate religious holidays, and that's fair. Christmas is right around the bend and I will definitely be feasting on Christmas day. For me, Christmas has lost religious meaning, and, to me, that's not a bad thing. It's a time for love, acceptance, happiness and warmth. That's all anyone really needs, isn't it?

I am still awed by the structure of churches in the same way that I am awed by natural caves on the shoreline. I choose not to pray in either.

Sincerely,

a contented atheist

P.S. My injections since my last post have gone swimmingly well. No hours of frustration, just point and shoot. Life's funny that way.

Stronger than plastic

I sat for my injection tonight around 10:30.

I'm on Avonex pre-filled syringes. One a week in a quad. Alternating legs weekly.

I'm developing a strong fear of injections. At 1:15 I managed to push the #$&*ing button. I took a break in there to drink a glass of wine, but it didn't help manage my stress. Music, breathing, nothing helped.

Some nights a tiny piece of plastic and a few metal springs feel so much bigger than me. Thank whatever deity you like that this is a rare occurrence and most Fridays I feel stronger than plastic.

wormhole

Hm...

I got up at 5:20 this morning. Got myself ready for the MRI. Took a sedative. Registered at the hospital. Had a nice tech allow me to bring someone in with me (she saw the panic on my face, I'm sure, when she suggested they don't normally let people in).

Sat in the belly of the beast for around 28 minutes before having to come out again and reposition. Spine first, then brain.

Not having music was not fun, but having someone there to grab my toes was great. Nance is my rock.

This time the sedative actually worked. I wasn't as panicky as I have been other times. I guess the fact that I'm 45 lbs lighter than the last time I was shoved into the cigar tube also helps. And I'm in a better frame of mind. Overall much happier in life. So, from start to finish, the scan wasn't so bad. It even seemed shorter than it was. No one told me not to swallow (if you tell me I can't swallow I panic and swallow). No one told me not to breathe deeply. It all worked out well. I fought back some panic, but it wasn't too hard to overcome this time.

So there. Done.

...oh, and the 7 hour nap afterwards was also good.

Home for a rest

Home again, home again.

My MRI is tomorrow morning. To say that I'm a little nervous is laughable. I'm a lot nervous. I have a tiny prescription of lorazepam to calm me during the scan, but it didn't work well last time (I got drowsy after the scan), so I'm not pinning all of my hopes on it.

Nance is coming with me to the hospital. I've relied on music to get me through other scans, but this hospital doesn't offer piped in music. Bummer. At least I'll have comfort in a friendly hand on my feet.

Logically, I realize how silly MRI claustrophobia is. When I think about it, I'll just be flaked out on a table in an open tube. I can get out on either end. I'm not locked in. The scan is beneficial. Nothing will hurt me. But none of that quells the fear that rises in my chest as the wee table is rolled into the machine. Small spaces are small spaces. They all feel like coffins to me.

On a much more positive note, I had a great trip home. It was really fun to surprise the folks (even the ones with no big reactions) and made my heart happy to see my dad enjoying himself so much on Halloween. I take after him in that way - I love Halloween. The creepier, the better. None of these fluffy, friendly-faced decorations, please. He and my step-mom have more Halloween decorations than some small stores, so he and I ended up sitting on a spooky front step amidst artificial fog and assorted ghouls and skeletons, waiting to scare the daylights out of kids. [Note: no children were harmed in the making of this evening]. It was also fun to surprise mom by knocking on her door trick-or-treating and to surprise N's mom by pretending to be a dummy in her haunted house basement (N's dad pretended he had set us up while she was out shopping). Bonus vacation points for getting to meet my new furry brother, Sam.

It felt like a really quick trip and I didn't get a chance to do a few things I'd have liked to (didn't get to hike at all, see a few people I planned on visiting, or get shopping with mom), but overall I'm so glad I went.

At least I'm going into tomorrow's MRI with tons of fun recent memories to mull over.

damn

I get the logic behind having MRIs, but I don't have to like them! :)

Time to visit the cactus

I have my annual neurologist appointment tomorrow.

Once I touch my nose with my eyes closed, walk a straight line, and do some reflex testing (almost kicked him where the sun doesn't shine one - geez don't stand in front of me and whack my knee!), I plan on asking him what his thoughts are on CCSVI. I've always liked my neuro, so I'm a bit nervous that he'll shut me down. I'm not looking for someone to say "yes, I believe this is 100% useful and will completely prevent further damage to your nervous system." I just want to know that he's listening closely to the ongoing conversation on the topic. I know that he has sent patients for MRV testing in the past, so we'll see how it goes.

I'm strangely comforted that this man keeps a variety of cactus plants in his office. I like that there aren't frilly plants or pastel paintings meant to put me at ease. I like directness. My neuro is direct. He's a cactus.

Semi-related, is it crazy that my biggest fear is he'll suggest another MRI? Yep, brain and spine could have more damage, but that damn box kills me. I watched the rescue of the Chilean miners with one eye closed whenever they showed shots of the men underground. I don't like elevators or tunnels. MRI machines are not my friends.

As my appointment approaches, I always take time to reflect on the past year. I spent a few months this winter with electric legs whenever I worked out and looked down. I've started feeling the dreaded fatigue now and then (not often, touch wood). But, all in all, I've been very fortunate so far. Sure, MS sucks. I have frustrated moments and can't help but worry over my future, but my body's path is not set in stone and I do what I can to take care of it.

I'm a technology nerd, a lover of the great outdoors, an amateur photographer with bad horizon lines, and a writer of bad poetry...but, that's it.

I'll keep on top of all areas of research, not just CCSVI, but I will never take on the role of an MS patient.