Melting

As I continue to get worse, I was trying to think of an adequate analogy to describe my continuous, active permutations related to MS. I've mentioned it several times before, but the example of Jean-Dominique Bauby seems like a logical comparison. He was a writer for Elle & the eventual author of The Diving Bell & the Butterfly, which was eventually made into a movie directed by Julian Schnabel. The book was composed after he suffered a massive stroke, by which he was rendered motionless & speechless, & with the help of others, he used a technique called "partner-assisted scanning," whereby he blinked when the correct letter was recited. This example is a little hyperbolic because I can still move & speak, & depressing, so I came up with another one that's anthropomorphic & somwhat scientific. I mean this in the most rudimentary way, so it should be palatable, but not entirely correct. (After all, you're speaking to an English major, so in college I avoided science classes as much as I could. Needless to say, I took no chemistry courses.) My condition is like water, & its variability.

My symptoms have proliferated regularly, continuously. I first started off with a cane, then moved on to a walker, & now have a wheelchair/power chair. Perhaps the best barometer of the current state of the disease is my face. At first, nothing seemed awry. Then, the right upper corner went numb. About a month ago, the lack of sensation moved across my forehead. Now, unfortunately, in the last few weeks it crossed the median line, & now also affects the left side down to my philtrum, the indentation in the middle of my upper lip. I would say "upper lip," but it seems to have halted just before it, at least for the time being... I used to think, "At least it can't get any worse," because it invariably does, unfortunately.

Now, I've mentioned before that I have no cognitive deficiencies, & this is still true. I know that this must be hard to believe, considering my constant physical decline, but I assure you that, mentally, I'm as sharp as ever. Maybe moreso, because, like a blind person develops other senses more acutely to compensate for the lack of sight, my brain remains unscathed (this is very counterintuitive because MS is a neurological ailment), & subsequently, cognitively I've grown stronger. This doesn't mean I can effortlessly can do math now, but my thoughts have become more lucid & pliable.

Seriously, my ex-girlfriends would find it hard to recognize me. I assure you, though, that I'm still me. Ice may melt, but the chemical compound remains the same. Frozen water is just that--water. When it melts, it's still water. It is, chemically, unchanged. Of course, my prior self was stronger, physically, but not mentally, & certainly not emotionally. Ice may seem stronger, but the Grand Canyon was forged by a river, not a glacier. Outwardly, a block of ice looks strong, but it can easily be broken up.

MS has pulverized my physical self, but the broken bits belie the strength of my inward self. Eventually, those hard, frozen shards melt. The new lack of fortitude looks like weakness, but actually a simple change of state has occurred. Like melted ice retains the chemical makeup of the water when it changes into liquid, I'm still the same person, although I may look different. (I think the strength of this extended metaphor makes that clear.)

&, actually, stronger, because water's hydrogen bonds are stronger than usual. At least, that's what I remember from high school chemistry...

R

PS--Merry Christmas.