R
— A – T — E
REFLECTANCE
— ABSORBANCE — TRANSMITTANCE — EMISSIVITY
The emissivity of my MS — Chapter 02
The emissivity of my MS — Chapter 02
What is expected of a person who has been
absorbing pain for almost 20 years? It’s a slippery slope for a variety of
reasons. Showing pain elicits sympathy. Constantly showing too much pain leads
to responses of martyrdom, overreaction, hypochondria, and narcissism. Masking
your pain will draw connotations of bravery, getting better, or “it’s not that
bad for him.” I always thought it was best to show a little bit of one, a pinch
of the other, and absorb the rest.
The pain I struggle with is often REFLECTED
off me in not-so-subtle, direct ways. I have tried to tell the world, “Because of
my MS, I am in constant pain.” I usually do this in my blogs, in search of
sympathy and support during fundraising season. Much in the same way, the pains
every MS patient feels are TRANSMITTED through me when I share examples
of the burdens we experience. My revelation hopefully draws sympathy while my
smile highlights bravery as I mock the pain with a hearty smile and casual pose.
Even in those extremes, so much is ABSORBED.
Often forgotten are the normal days. Getting out of bed in the morning… Going
to bed at night… Standing too long… Sitting too long… Trying to cook… Trying to
eat… Dishes… Laundry… Heat/cold, reading/writing, doing too much/too little/anything
at all… Every moment of every day draws pain and discomfort. How do I draw out
all that I have absorbed because of my MS? What is the emissivity of my pain
after almost 20 years?
I can’t scream. They are a set of muscles in your
neck responsible for the production of sound and speech. These laryngeal
muscles are part of the long list of muscles kind–of–sort–of damaged by my MS.
A while back I was dining with a group of friends when one of them popped their
chair up to scoot it closer to the table— and right on to my dues want toes.
That hurt; my first reaction was to scream. What came out was a screeching
sound akin to a bathtub full of screaming baby piglets. It did not have its
intended effect.
I can’t cry. Emotionally, I have become overly
sensitive to the slightest tug at my heartstrings. On no less than seven
separate occasions, Eleanor had to ask me if I was OK yesterday. We were at the
movies watching the new release of Aladdin. My muscles would constrict in
my neck and chest. I don’t know why I could not contain myself, I’ve seen the
original about 10,000 times. Although emotions are a common symptom of MS
patients, mine expressions are limited to uncomfortable “choked up” feelings at
insignificant times. Beyond that–nothing.
The emissivity of my pain is limited to my words
for now. Maybe this blog is my first step. Hopefully, I won’t be limited to
random reactions of “Fuck,” “Ouch,” and “Help.”
I don’t want to absorb any more pain
Disclaimer: multiple sclerosis differs vastly
from patient to patient. No two instances are the same. Symptoms, diagnosis,
and treatment are just some of the factors that lead credence to the saying,
“Once you've met one MS patient, you've met one MS patient.” My experiences
described are unique to me. However, there is an underlying pattern in the
fight every one of us faces.
Because it is a fight.
The fight is not over and it won’t be over until a cure is found.
It will never stop…nor will we
It will never quit…nor will we
This is why we ride!
Please
donate today: http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/eleanor
100%
of the royalties earned from my books go to the National MS Society, to support
our fight: http://neverstopneverquit.com/books
Never Stop… Never Quit…®
Kevin
Byrne
Portland,
OR
Never
Stop… Never Quit… Reg. U.S. Pat. & Tm. Off.
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