MS Anger

 

 

Anger.  The force within. 

What is it?  Where does it come from?  Why does it exist?

I’ve had multiple sclerosis pert near 23 years now and still my anger can boil over like noodles on a stove.

I might not have the energy to lift my dead foot over a two-inch threshold, yet at the same time, anger swells 10x in frustration.

Does one ever get over that feeling?

I have always been a hot-head of sorts but since MS moved in my fire has intensified.  There is a never ending pile of wood to fuel the flames.

 

My anger has never been directed at a person.  I wouldn’t hurt a flea.

But objects?  Whoa, they get me as angry as a bee in a window.

Stubborn buttons on a shirt.  Opening a water bottle.  Dropping the soap in the shower again & again.

Yesterday I needed scissors to cut open the wrapper of a candy bar.

Scissors?  Really?

The bank’s vault is always open yet I need friggin scissors to unwrap a candy bar?

That’s MS anger.

Me shuffling my way through the basement always ends with laundry, a sock or pair of underwear, hooked on my toe.

Same with bedsheets.  They love to hang on like their life depends on me NOT getting out of bed.

I’m throwing F-words at the sheets and it is only 7am!

That’s MS anger.

My canes bear the brunt of my frustrations.  They aren’t chipped, scratched & all gnarly from heavy use but from my temper.

They fall over all the time.  The sound pisses me off and I unload, whacking & swinging along with plenty of “F***ing canes!”

Same with “F***ing shoes” when they catch.

“F***ing feet” when they don’t work.

“F***ing legs” when they don’t move.

“F***ing MS” nearly all day.  Every day.

 

I thought I was alone in my anger till I read “Blindsided” by Richard Cohen.

He is a long-time MSer and two-time cancer survivor.

Cohen is an ex-TV network news producer, writer and most notably the husband of TV personality Meredith Vieira.

He describes his MS anger much the same as mine (Though in way better detail).  A building-up of frustrating pressure till the cork pops at the slightest aggravation. 

(An MSers must read.  Especially from a man’s side.)

 

Problem with all this anger is that it only makes MS worse.

My muscles tighten making me more rigid than a mannequin at Kohl’s.  Honest Abe at the Lincoln Memorial has better range of movement.

Cooler heads prevail.  I know.  We all do.

Thus I try, I do try, to reign in my piss & vinegar.

Breathe…and…relax.

In…and…out.

Thinking of rainbows…and unicorns.

At least till the next time opening a bag of chips when F-words fly freely once again.