You’d think after living with MS for 11 years that I’d remember the lessons I’ve learned along the way. Like the importance of staying out of the hot sun in the summertime (in other word, act like a vampire on True Blood without the bloodsucking part). Like making sure I keep track of my prescriptions so I don’t suddenly run out of important medication. And listening to that little voice in my head that says Get to the bathroom. Now.
But NO…I have those occasional bouts of denial where I say to myself, It’s OK, I can just finish reading that last page/writing that last note/dropping off things in the kitchen and put off what I know I need to do right away. Then I find myself in that Catch-22 situation: I have to go and get to the bathroom as fast as I can, but I can’t get to the bathroom fast enough because I so slow I would lose to a snail in a race.
You think I’d learn. But some strange voice inside of me says No, this time will be different or This time it won’t be so bad. Thankfully, I never get so overly confident that I forget my ultimate contingency plans. Like the Poise pads I wear just in case I get overly cocky like I did today. Like the Depends I wear when I’m ill so that I don’t have to worry about accidents when I’m really not prepared to clean up the aftermath and when I’m even slower that my usual sluggish pace. (Plus, Depends feel more comfy when I sick, and it’s one less thing to worry about when I’m such a mess.) Like the emergency pants that I keep in strategic locations in case something embarrassing happens. At least then I don’t have to add insult to injury by displaying the proof for all to see – I can change clothes and hide the evidence. There is one plus that has come out of my situation. Last week, my 7-year-old didn’t think he had enough time to make it to the restroom, and he was scared that a camp counselor would say no if he asked to go to the restroom. So he headed to a discreet corner of the playground and solved his problem. One of the counselors saw him, and they had a talk with him to let him know that if he had asked, they definitely would have taken him. When I picked him up, they told me what happened. What really concerned me about the situation was that he was scared to bring it up to his counselors. Far worse things can happen at camp, and I would want to make sure that he would speak up if one of those situations happened near him (or even worse, to him). But I could get a good conversation going because of my own experiences. I’m not a boy, but I do know what it’s like when you really, REALLY have to go, and he knows that. It gave me extra credibility when I advised him to make sure he talked to his counselors and get their help. He’s me in a seven-year-old male body, so even though I’m a girl, he knew I understood his thought process and why he did what he did. So here was a case where my MS helped me to be a more relatable parent and use my experiences to help one of my kids with a challenging situation. But I still wish I hadn’t been able to draw on my own experience to give him advice.