A Glamorous Beginning...

April 1999

I had to pee. The door to our master bath is a few steps from the foot of our bed. I hopped up, walked in, took care of business then automatically reached to flush the toilet with my left hand. However, said hand didn't move from my side. With no conscious thought, I simply reached with my right hand and pushed the lever. Glamorous, right?

As I turned to leave the bathroom, it dawned on me that nothing on the left side of my body was doing what it was supposed to be doing. I propelled myself out the door, across the few steps to our bed, and collapsed onto my back. By this point, the entire left side of my body had seized up. My arm, bent at the elbow, pushed into my chest; my leg, bent at the knee, was a pillar of concrete; the left side of my face was drawn tight and it felt as though my chest was being squeezed by a giant, making it hard to breathe. It was as if someone had split my body with perfect precision, stealing all control of the left and leaving to right to do all the work.

Craig's face was suddenly floating above mine, asking me what the hell was happening, should he call 911, was I okay, was I okay, was I okay...? He looked as terrified as I felt. I knew it must look like I was having a heart attack and remember wondering if that was indeed what was happening. I'd never experienced a heart attack so how the hell was I supposed to know if this is what it felt like. The only answer I could get past the giant's grip on my chest was "my chest doesn't hurt" which wasn't quite true since it was being crushed but somehow I knew this had nothing to do with my heart. 

After a couple of minutes, I felt everything begin to unlock. Funny how sometimes mere minutes can feel like hours. Slowly but surely my leg started to straighten out, my arm began to slide out of it's frozen position across my chest, the giant's grip began to loosen and I could breathe again. What. Was. THAT?

Please visit my Bike MS: Round-Up Ride page to make a donation. https://secure.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?fr_id=31004&pg=personal&px=16354680