Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Nothing Can Change Me.
''Some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity ... " ~ Gilda Radner
Woke from a wonderful deep sleep and was looking forward to the day and to writing my post before Richie showered me.
This was not to be; as I was not getting all the benefits of the fan, it had got enveloped in my mosquito net, so I asked Richie to tie it back; as soon as he did he discovered that I was lying in a bed awash with urine.
Until Richie discovered this, I had no idea having just woken up, had not felt that anything was wrong, had not felt cold nor did I smell anything.
Yet as soon as Richie said, I instantly felt wet and cold, as well as smelt the unmistakable ‘’gorgeous’’ odour of pee.
Horrible start to the day, made better by Richie’s swift action in getting me hoisted out of bed and under the shower.
He soon got me showered and dried and dressed, ready to see our good friend Anja who was coming to visit at 14.00.
It was very good seeing Anja, she is my best friend here we have known each other for a long time now.
The first time I saw her was in 1983, we first met and got to know each other in 1984, that is already 26 years ago now.
Funny how time flies by, seems not long ago that I moved to Amsterdam, one minute it was 1981 and the next it is 2010.
In 1981 I was 30 and here it is I am 59, despite the MS knocking lumps out of me, I do not feel much different then I did in 1981.
By that I do not mean that 29 years came and went without affecting me in any way, as of course they did.
What I mean is that I am finding out that despite everything that life has thrown at me and the effects of this nasty disease and getting older, essentially I am still me..
Guess this is what confused me when I was a child, every birthday I would rush to the mirror and examine myself.
I was looking for signs that getting a year older had made a noticeable difference and I would feel maybe even be different.
For years I was sad to never see any obvious differences, every year I was disappointed until I became a teenager and no longer rushed to the mirror every 17 March.
Now I realise that I was not only looking for outward signs, but I was also expecting to feel different too, to be somehow changed.
Which is not possible as I totally understand, now I can see that I have aged and that I have been affected by this shitty MS but nothing can change me or make me different