I feel erased. Like
in an old family photograph where one figure is slowly fading away. This
disease consumes every space, there is almost no room for me. ‘I am not MS, I
have MS.’ Often said; now I know what it means.
My vision is
troubled, speech is not always clear, handwriting unrecognizable (if I can hold
a pen), in my room there is a lift to transfer me from bed to wheelchair and
I am not the mother
I’d like to be, cannot be a professional anymore. It could be worse. It’s bad enough
and I didn’t hit the bottom yet.
Let me find
something positive to think and do about.