part iii: Annascaul

Yes, I know it's taking me forever.

So, Annascaul, or Anascaul or, in Irish, Abhainn an Scáil or Abha na Scáil. Whatever name you choose, that's where we found ourselves.

I woke to the sound of a sheep bleating in the neighbour's backyard. It's actually an effective alarm clock and who can get mad at a cotton candy goat?

Before setting out on the hike, we had this beautiful day in this beautiful town to rest. The day's plans were to maybe do some light wandering, check out the farmer's market and see what trouble we could find.

Breakfasts at the B&Bs were quite an ordeal. Without ordering breakfast, you'd get cereals, fresh brown bread, toast, fruit, coffee, tea, and juice. Most places offered yogurts and some sort of pastry as well. The night before, you'd place your breakfast order for hot food. Every B&B had a different process for ordering, and at Annascaul House we had to fill in a little form and leave it on the front table so Noel could run to the market across the street before they closed. Cooked options were smoked salmon, porridge (made with Bailey's Irish Cream in most places we stayed), eggs done however you'd like, bacon, sausage, and white or black pudding.

Being from Newfoundland, I knew the latter options weren't delightful custards of any sort and steered far clear of them. Growing up, I knew black pudding as blood pudding. Pork meat, pork fat, beef or mutton fat, and a binder of bread and sometimes oatmeal. Blood optional. Without blood, it's called white pudding. With oatmeal, it sometimes has the tricky name of oatmeal pudding. Don't be fooled!

It's no wonder we don't eat meat.

After we had a very full breakfast, our host suggested a few sights for us to take in. People in Ireland are especially excited to offer the names of favourite pubs. He also mentioned the farmer's market and a nearby lake.

The sky was a mezmerizing blue but it was a cool day, so a little walk to a lake sounded inviting. We got a quick set of instructions from Noel - one or two kilometres down the road past the bridge. We'd see a sign for Tom Crean's grave. Go right and go through a gate to get to the lake.

We opted for the lake and after checking out the market, we found the bridge, and started down a road lines with tall fuchsia hedges. The wildflowers were stunning.

Twenty minutes or so into our walk, we were wondering where the lake was. We had yet to see much beyond a few homes, cows, and the odd black and white farm dog. We were not moving at any great speed, so we kept going, assuming the gate would be around the next corner.

In the meantime we were in awe of the flora. This may sound silly but I had no idea that holly grew much bigger than knee high shrubs. Imagine my surprise as we passed massive towering holly trees!

Squinty wife for scale.

By this point, we were 40 minutes into our walk and where the heck was the lake?

Finally we saw a little sign denoting the burial site, so we knew we were on the right course. The distance wasn't bothering me but it was warming up and I was in a cotton hoodie and jeans. Not the best "I have MS and have to stay cool" outfit.

We happened upon an older couple who were also tourists in search of the lake. Still nowhere in sight, but further proof that we were heading the right way.

So, it turns out that heading to the lake that's a kilometer or two up the road, on your rest day, can turn into a 12km trek. Twelve kilometers. In cotton and denim. 

Mind you, once we found the lake, it was beautiful. It was surrounded by steep, treeless mountains, speckled with sheep, of course. The water was calm and the surface reflected the tall peaks surrounding it. It was surreal to walk through a valley with sheep bleating far overhead. They echoed into a chorus of wooly cries. Not gonna lie, most of them sounded bored.

While we took in the lake and stopped for a few photos, the couple we had met along the way caught up to us for a chat. They were from Florida and were overwhelmed by the landscape around us. I pointed out one particularly sure footed sheep high on the mountain behind us and we left them there with their cameras pointed up at the wee bahhing cloud.

We made our way back to town, taking in the vibrant scenery, careful to listen for traffic on the twisty, teeny roads.

Wingspan wife for scale. This is not a one-way road.

When we finally made our way back to town after walking 12 kilometers on our rest day (do you get the sense this pickled my grits some?), we popped into a café for a bite to eat. To backtrack, we were not having a terrible time.

Instagram link to happy faces.

Up until this point we hadn't been eating fabulous lunches or suppers. There aren't a ton of veg options in most small towns, unless you want fries. When we saw chana masala on a chalkboard sign we basically ran inside the café. Nance ordered the masala and I got some kinda sandwich. Brie, spinach, pear, and cranberry on brown bread with a slightly tart vinaigrette. To. Die. For.

We didn't want to leave.

Curious about the plants of the area, we asked our waitress about one we had seen that looked a lot like humongous rhubarb. One leaf could obscure an entire person.

"Oh," she said, "that's giant rhubarb." Go figure. The shop owner filled her in on the plant's real name, Gunnera. She informed us with a smile that it's "not to be confused with...the other". Only in Ireland can waitresses make STD jokes at lunch seem appropriate and charming.

She was lovely, though, and asked all about our trip - where we were from and where we were headed. She even drew up a list of sights to see in Dingle when we got there. She also told us that there was quite a time across the street the night before and it got wild. That's Hanafins. The place we left as all the women loving women were getting tipsy. We missed a good time from all accounts.

After a bite to eat, we turned in to pack our bags for the next day's hike and to catch some Olympics. During our stay at Annascaul House we met people from Germany, France, the Netherlands, and New Jersey. Yes, I did just equate the land of Bon Jovi with countries.

That concludes our pre-hike portion of the trip. The next day would bring us from Annascaul to the town of Dingle via Lispole. It was calling for sun and rain. Lots to prepare for!

xo

life as it is

I have been pretty busy since moving back to the big city of #saintawesome. It's been a flurry of cleaning, unpacking, organizing, and general prettification, and we're finally getting back to normal.

Well, more normal after a yard sale. And some shelves.

I'm not sure what kind of environmental hoohaw has occurred since we left but this has been a sweltering, brain mushing week. Trying to think through porridge. It's been in the low 30s the last four days and that slows the aforementioned progress to a drunk sloth's pace.

With the heat comes symptoms, of course. Shittiest cracker jack surprise ever - here's some sunshine and heat and hidden inside is the lasting sensation of carpet burn for your left arm, and spider webs on your right! Go, me!

But, screw that kind of talk because our late honeymoon in Ireland is drawing nigh and we couldn't be more excited! I have been making lists of the essentials - passports, adapters, extra card for the camera, and candy. natch. I have a sweet tooth on hikes. I blame Robyn Benincasa for that. Too much time watching her eat Twizzlers in the Eco-Challenges. Funny, she ate jerky too but I have no I penchant for that. I realize how obscure this reference is. It's hot, remember. My brain is as floppy as an over easy poach.

Nance's parents, aka the guests/ petsitters, arrive tonight or tomorrow, depending on how tired they are after the gulf cruise. It's about a six hour drive after the ferry. Blergh.

It'll be great to spend some time with them before we fly out. Fun to not have an agenda for a few days. We'll have almost a week with them to get them used to the animals and their habits. I am excited that they're bringing little Luce too. They have had her for years but it seems like only last year Nance found her wandering the highway in the middle of nowhere. She's a cutie. She and Abbey and Ringo will have to figure it all out. Luce never liked Abbey (jealous boots/resource guarder) and Ringo used to stalk the little dog. Sooo, we'll see!

We have very thoughtful friends who have offered to take Abbey out for exercise now and then, so we'll leave all appropriate numbers for the babysitters. Our dog needs a village.

It will be so strange not to see Abbey for that long. We kennelled her once when we went to Québec and once for something I don't remember but other than that, she's been with me from the moment she got off the plane from her kennel. Is it weird that I am emotional at the thought? Probably. Blaming that on Tara. I spent part of the morning looking at photos of a dog she lost recently. Heart tugs. lots of good memories.

Nance is also en route as we...as I type. She's still working in the Northwest, so I get her for ends of weeks and weekends. Not ideal but it is what it is. Can't wait to see her. We're sickening, really. If people knew how lovey we are at home, it'd be a vomfest.

So, yeah. Ireland. We have the first seven days planned, I believe. After that we're considering England. Not to see Big Ben, nope, not Buckingham Palace, the London Eye, the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, nor Madame Tussauds either...no, no. We'd be going for the sea glass. Yes. Sea glass. In Seaham. I swear she's okay with it.

We may end up happily staying in Ireland for the entirety of our travels. Who knows. It will be fantastic, no matter what we do. We need to sort it soon, though. Accommodations are on the dear side in the UK. Airbnb has been great for planning, so far. We're staying at a proven gay-friendly spot in Dublin our first night. Safety first!

Let's see...what have I missed? We did a Color Run. Hilarious and fun right up until the point where MS threw up the middle finger at being in the sun for so long. Got confused near the end. Meh, still had a lot of fun.

It is super having friends so close again. This was a good move.

On that note, I should go chill some frosties for my wife.

Oh, she's home. Later dudes.

xo

wandering in the fog and the woods

To get the MS update over with, yes, my vision continues to be toast in my left eye.

That's all I have to report.

On to other things!

We have signed up for the Halifax Regional Search & Rescue's Eco-Endurance Challenge again! It's an orienteering adventure held in the woods of Nova Scotia. Nance and I entered the 8-hour recreational category as a two-person team, The Happy Campers (t-shirts and all, yo). The countdown is on and it's only 10 days away.

We are excited to meet up with team Jedis and Padawans - friends and their kids. So, that's four adults, two 10-year olds, and two bouncy dogs in one suite. Should be hilarious. I am very curious how the kids will do over an 8-hour stretch searching for flags with a compass and map. That's a long time on your feet! Snacks and games will be key to prevent grumpiness. My grumpiness, that is.

The last time we went on this adventure, we were team Huffin' Puffins, joined by my father-in-law and brother-in-law. I was very excited, but it was brutal. Ticks, heat, and the flies were so thick, we were inhaling them. Actually, let's not go down this road of expounding all the bad things about that day now that I've signed up for it again. We survived! And it's totally live and learn. Bringing tick deterrent this time and planning for heat.

Ah yes, heat - my arch nemesis. The bane of most people with MS. It steals my tongue and blindfolds my feet. This time I will be bringing a cooling towel, sun or no sun. It's bad enough to be confused and start talking and walking funny when near home - super not fun when you're miles from help. Team Happy Campers is planning ahead and will be ending this one as happy campers, dammit!

I'll report back when the event is over and see how that turned out.

In other news...

Spring is finally springing on the homestead and that means a new season of groans in this old house. Paging Bob Vila! Nothing too pressing or we'd ask the owner to call in a professional, but this week one of the toilets needed fixing and the dryer needed a new vent (putting an end to the rodent superhighway and icy porch). Enter my love of tools.

No one was hurt. I'm handier than I look.

I have been on an 8km a day kick lately and it is HARD. Not the walking itself. I feel great and my legs are functioning just fine these days. Frankly, New Denmark is rich in 1) potatoes, and 2) land. Wide open spaces - you'd think this would be a cinch, right? Naw. It's so fricken' windy because of the lack of...anything. So, walking gets tricky. I wear earplugs most of the time to keep the wind from blowing my thoughts away. Also, there's a lot of bear scat in the fields now and we saw one a few days ago, so field walks are much more careful now. Also also, there are no sidewalks or anything resembling shoulders on the roads, so it's a bit risky. Especially with ear plugs. Also*3, people here don't fence or tie their dogs (yay!) so I am greeted and followed by strange dogs no matter which direction I try (boo!). Yesterday Abbey and I walked two km with a lovely mixed breed, Maya.

Adorable, yes, but I couldn't keep going and have her follow me the other 5 km back home. Or, I suppose I could have, but then I'd have worried about her not making it home safely [note above section on lack of sidewalks or shoulders].

So, there it is. Walking is officially harder when you have massive space in which to roam. Or something. And now I'm paying to go do just that in the woods. ;)

xo

You do what now?

Hold on to yer panties - I've been running. 

Yes, running.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned my dilemma with running here before, but it can be summed up as "I run, I heat up, I fall over" - pretty typical for someone with heat sensitivity caused by MS. But, this funny little cold snap know as October has allowed me to get in a few kilometres here and there for a few weeks now. Actually, a few months. Whacky. 

I am seriously fortunate to have the best fiancée ever (vomir, right?) and she's been supporting the running. It's hilarious for me to be chugging along at 4km and see that she is chipper as a chipmunk and has hardly broken a sweat. I keep myself from throwing things at her by reminding myself that running isn't just a skill one picks up overnight. ;) She's a great running partner for me, though. She gets it. She knows I'm dealing with more than burning lungs and tired legs when I run - stabbing head pain being the number one issue. But, I tell myself that it's temporary and try to block it from my mind and carry on as best I can. Rather, I try to embrace it in some twisted way - acknowledge it and let it be so it fades from my immediate thoughts. Namaste, yo.

I'm by no means claiming to be a runner...I have more of a "YAY - it's over!" mindset about it. But, I'm ready to go as soon as N gets off work, so clearly something in me recognizes the gain beyond the pain. So, cheers to that! Also, Abbey's loving family running and I'm suddenly more likely to randomly run on our walks now and that blows her fuzzy little mind.

On the MS side of things - nothing to report. My lower right leg is numb off and on, but it doesn't impact my day to day physicality, and years after diagnosis, that sort of thing doesn't have a huge impact on my state of mind either. I'm also trying to ignore the jumping nerves in my face this past week. Hoping that's just lack of adequate rest. 

I've been eating well, exercising lots (heaven is 20 minutes and a set of dumbbells for me), and just trying to keep on keeping on in every positive light possible. Planning a wedding and having a dress (sidebar: WE BOUGHT DRESSES!) - those are big motivations for staying healthy and active.

Oh, new supplement CoQ10. Great for vascular health. If someone can explain the stabbing pain in my head when I run as anything other than a vascular issue, I'd love to hear it.

Be aware: May is MS awareness month

...so I may post fundraising links and whatnot.

I have no set idea of anything to talk about, so let's see what kind of rambling mess comes out, shall we?

First off, regular life business…(aka, Dog Ramblings)
Abigail has been cleared for more exercise! Swims! Walks! Let's hope it puts an end to the growing reactivity to every bump and whisper. Lately she's been barking at every opportunity. I've seen a little bit of progress this past week and hope for more in the weeks to come. I feel bad for her - she hardly sees anyone but us and come on - we're just plain boring. She did have little visits from a few friends popping by lately, so maybe that increase in exposure has been part of the increasingly good outcome. That and the new Freedom harness. We can't collar walk her yet, for fear of her lunging (see aforementioned reactivity) and neither of us has ever loved her EZ walk harness, so we bought the Freedom harness and it's fantastic! It doesn't change her stride or fit around her legs weirdly - it's just a great little body harness that she seems to like and feel much more comfortable in than the last one. 

Tangents, yes. I know. I ramble. You were warned. The surgeon said Abbey's leg has healed about 95% which puts her a little ahead of the game. The other yellow lab who had the same procedure the same day was also there for a follow-up exam and the surgeon said his leg is about 65-70% healed and that was fairly normal. Shocker - super dog makes impressive strides. Her weight is down slightly from our last vet visit during which we learned she had gained over 4 lbs in the 3 months of reduced activity, so it's nice to know the lower cal food is helping balance the lower amount of exercise. We can start building up her exercise again now (adding another 5 minutes every 3-4 days). At 12 weeks, everything should be back to normal and we can try some off leash walking and start introducing her to doggy friends again. This is only the 7 week mark, so we're being conservative and using a long lead on her waaaay before we let her off leash.

Are your eyes glazing over yet? I'm almost done with the dog talk…
So, as soon as we got home, we grabbed the long lead (30') and took Abbey for a little swim - her first in months. She was beyond excited. Grabbed her toy, ran into the water, ran out…forgot the point of fetch altogether, but we just let her do her thing to get the sillies out. Sidenote: people, if you're going for a little campfire next to a gorgeous lake, haul out your glass bottles. Tossing them into the fire and leaving the broken mess means people like me and many of my friends have to worry about our dogs stepping on it. 

Moving on...
Nance and I headed to the Fredericton market this morning to support Ange's new business. It was a chilly, wet day in Freddy, but worth the trip. We bought some delicious raw treats and a few muffins chatted with Ange and Greg some, and then wandered the city a bit. We had an hour or so to kill before picking up race kits for friends running the half marathon tomorrow, so we twacked. Had fabulous coffee. Walked the dog with her new sidekick, Sherman the sheep, of course. BTW, Fredericton marathon folk - your set-up left a lot to be desired - it was overcrowded, there was little direction, there was nearly a complete lack of signage for anyone not living in the city, it was terribly loud and far too warm in the main room - all in all, very surprising. I love race environments and the Blue Nose and PEI have spoiled me on what to expect, I guess. After pick-up, we headed on over to the poutine restaurant. We were both intrigued. I'm all for healthy eating, but now and then you have to try out something different and it's not often you find vegetarian poutine. So, I got a veggie traditional. Delicious for the first few bites, but I get near instant lead belly from fries and any type of gravy, so the joy was short lived. If you don't feel like you've swallowed an anvil when you've eaten fries, and you like poutine, I'd definitely recommend going there! Lots of options. 

The race environment took a toll on my head and I thought the grease might help fix it (waaay wrong), so I pretty much slept or tried my damnedest to sleep on the drive home. I started the day feeling groggy and struggling a smidge for proper word retrieval, a sure sign that I'm tired, so I'm not surprised that adding a lot of heat and noise created just the right blend for a migraine recipe.

Once I got home, I sought out my good friend Advil and settled in for a much needed nap.

Post-nap, I woke with one purrsome little guy tucked under my arm. I love this cat. He is one of the sweetest beings I've ever met. If you have followed the saga of Nik and Rings, you know that this was not always my spin on him. He used to attack me at every opportunity - territorial little bastard. But I adore him. Waking to find that he has snuck under an arm or behind a knee warms me - literally and figuratively.

Where was I? Oh, right. I woke from my nap and after I had a murmuring discussion with Ringo, I put my glasses on. Step one in the Get TF Up process. I blinked at the Roman blind in the window and noticed that the pattern was all blurry in my right lens. Between my own fingerprints and Abbey's dog licks I am forever cleaning these things, so I took them off, wiped the lens down, and put them back on to find…no difference. 

fawk. 

So, I am writing this with migraine-induced optic neuritis (gee, welcome back) in my right eye. The left is totally fine. The right is not. It's like manually focusing a camera lens. I look at something and I can sense the eye "dialling in" to become sharper. It is a completely bizarre sensation. I feel a little like the Terminator. 

Anyway, I'll consult the doc if it doesn't take care of itself in a week or two. There's nothing to do but wait or take steroids anyway, and I'm not big on anything that could potentially affect my bone density, so we'll see what time brings. At least it's only in one eye and the acuity is there after that initial readjustment. Bummed that the ON is back at all, but in the words of Pema Chodron, "It isn't what happens to us that causes us to suffer; it's what we say to ourselves about what happens." 

It's the wee hours of the morning now, so I'm off to give yellow dog a neck snuggle (I love the feel of her ruff) and am off to bed.

I hope this May month brings you all much peace and good health.

The dog ate my...everything

L'il Abbey is a whopping 4 months old!

She has the body of a 7-month old lab pup, the strength of a bull, and the mentality of a coked out toddler. Love her to bits, but hellz, I was not prepared for this amount of investment! I knew it'd be work, but the 24-hour supervision gets exhausting! How do people have children?! Still, she has stolen a huge chunk of my heart…and my shoes…and my shirt…and my jeans...oh, and she killed my hard drive.

Yellowfoot here is turning into a true water hound and it's getting hard to keep her from hopping into every pond and puddle we encounter. It's really great that we have friends with dogs and one of those pooches is a swimmer to the core. She's an adult yellow lab (larger version of Abbey) and can swim for miles as long as there's a ball floating somewhere in the distance. I'm hoping Abbey's learning by example and it seems to be working so far. She's going to be so much fun to swim with when it warms up! I can't wait to camp with her. I'm not so sure how she'll sleep in a tent, but it should be hilarious.

Just spent a weekend in Halifax with N's fam. Fun to see them and really fun for them to meet Abbey. The fam wandered the market on Saturday (mmm…baclava) and I stayed outside with the pup (no pooches allowed), and she made a zillion new friends. I'm relieved to see that this bundle of energy has some manners with strangers, including small children and other dogs. She's best outside of the house, so the Halifax waterfront was a great spot for getting a little diversity into her life.

In non-pet news, the Blue Nose is less than 2 weeks away! Woohoo! My excitement has taken a while to perk up, to be honest, but I am now officially pumped to walk my third half marathon. Finding time to exercise regularly (for anything more than an hour at a time) has been a bit trickier since getting Abbey, but I spend more time wandering beaches and trails, so it all balances out. I hope. I've done a few 18km walks lately and they've been fine, so the 21 shouldn't be too much of a leap. The only pestering unknown is how fatigue may affect me. I'm hoping for a cool day. If it weren't so inconvenient, I'd wander through life with a water tower strapped to my back, but the Blue Nose has plenty of fluid stops to keep me cool. Oh, did I mention that the half walk starts at 7:30 in the morning? Yeah. Apparently there is a 7:30 in the morning too. Who knew? [Sue me, it's one of the few awesome benefits of being a company of one!]

I also tend to get a bit lost inside of my thoughts when I'm tired, so I'm hoping walking with 2 other people and an iPod will help. When my body gets tired, I tend to start noticing my movements more…convinced that I'm slapping my left foot more…wondering if it's an early predictor of drop foot. It's not a thought pattern that I'm proud to have and it only raises its head when I'm working myself hard. It bugs me that I can get lost in the worry when I'm tired, but I try to recognize it for what it is and get beyond it.

Continuing on the MS side of things, I'm still waiting for insurance to give me a green light for Avonex. I've paid for several months out of pocket so far and…well, that's not fun and my bank account is dwindling (Avonex is around $1800 a month). It's such a process, but I've been through the first steps - getting denied by the provincial government for funding. Fingers crossed that special authorization is a go!

Overall, life is great. I've had a few external reminders recently that every moment is precious. I am grateful for this life the universe has carved out for me, MS and all.

Uphill battles

This one's a little more personal...

I went for a hike last weekend. 8km on a nice, sunny Sunday. It was a day of mixed emotion.

I'm only now, in my thirties, really finding a love for being an active person. At the same time, I'm only now being faced with the realities of having MS.

I love being outdoors. I can't begin to capture the feeling in words, but I'm happiest on trails and beaches. Content. If I have to stop to shake sand out of my shoes or pluck a leaf from my hair, it's a good day.

Sunday was a day of butterflies, dragonflies, and woodpeckers. Dappled sunlight falling between the leaves. I was excited to spend the afternoon outside, challenging myself. Content to be with someone who knows when I want to be left alone with my thoughts and when I need a goofy distraction from my steady stream of internal dialogue.

The first kilometre of the hike was fairly steep. My lungs were burning early on. I don't mind that. Actually, I welcome it. I love being in decent enough shape to know I’ll survive a few hours of burning lungs and challenged quads. After that steep climb, the hike evened out into on a fairly comfortable uphill walk for a while. It was a hot day. Well, hot for me. My internal heating and cooling systems have some wiring issues at times - a problem for many people with MS - so it often feels like a hot day to me if it's over 20 degrees.

After about a kilometre on the easier section of the hike, I started feeling tanked. Out of fuel. Done. My lungs were fine. My legs were fine. But I suddenly felt like I was underwater. Each step took more and more effort. The exhaustion associated with MS is hard to describe. I didn't feel it for my first few years with MS and, to be honest, I wondered if it was real or a pseudo-symptom. I brushed it off as something that other people complained about, but thought surely it couldn't be that bad. Fatigue is difficult to understand if you're not experiencing it. You're not really tired. You're not sleepy. Your legs don't feel weak; they just don't want to work. Nothing does.

There I was, in my perfect scenario - with the birds singing and the sun shining - starting to realize that this damn disease was having an effect on my activity level. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I've walked two half-marathons, but this simple hike felt like I had been walking for days. I'm not exaggerating when I say it felt like I was underwater. My legs felt like they had drag. I stopped often. The trail ahead of me looked like it stretched on forever, especially when it became steep again. I felt defeated.

You have to understand, it's not like I don't have heat-related issues - from the very beginning, I've had Uhthoff's phenomenon - a temporary worsening of vision with exercise (in people with MS who have any level of optic neuritis), linked to increased heat production. I first noticed it when lifting weights four years ago. The carpet appeared to lose its texture in part of my vision. It usually only lasts 8-10 seconds. I also periodically experience Lhermitte's sign, an electrical sensation that runs down the back and legs when bending the neck forwards. These are things that come and go for me. Part of life. Familiar annoyances. If I work out, I know my vision will get screwy if I overheat. Fatigue, however, is a new and difficult beast for me to tackle.

I felt like my mind and my body - my legs, heart, and lungs - were into the hike and enjoying the day. Something else inside of me was not on board though. I tried counting the steps I took to distract me from the rushing worries. I put my head down and only looked at the few feet of ground ahead of me. Nothing helped. I couldn't get my body to cooperate and got lost in a storm of concerns.

I drank some water and that helped a bit. Cleared the fog from my brain temporarily. But as soon as I started going again, it returned. Finally, I stopped trying to fight the emotion and flood of doubts and let myself cry. Not just cry - sob.

Every now and then I need to stop trying to hold onto this strong “MS is just a small facet of my life” persona and feel the bigness of having a body that betrays me sometimes. So, I did. I stopped, faced downhill so I’d stop seeing the vastness of the trail ahead of me, and I let the emotion wash over me. I had my two minute “pity party,” and then turned back to face the trail and started walking again.

I'm determined. For some reason, people think that my quietness means I’m timid, but I have a stubborn streak 3 miles wide. Thanks, mom and dad! So, I kept going. After we stopped for a bit to find a geocache (that we didn't locate, dammit), my fatigue released its grip. I could feel it happening. There was a great cool breeze blowing. The day felt bright again. My body felt like my own and responded as it should have for the rest of the hike. I even ran a little on the way down.

These realities are bitter for me. For everyone learning to live with MS, I imagine. And it’s a constant learning process. New obstacles to work around. New doubts to process. I still feel safe when walking, running, or hiking. I feel like I am 100% responsible for my actions and can do all of these things without fear of hurting myself or putting others at risk, but the fatigue is an uncomfortable reminder that I may not always feel this way.

Happily, life's not one big uphill war. I just encounter little battles now and then.