It’s been my experience with MS that when one system starts to fail in my body, they pretty much all do, like little leukocyte dominos lined up just waiting to be knocked over.
Neck bone connected to the leg bone via three other bones and all that. Which is why I feel like a broken bobblehead with a limp right now.
I try to stay healthy the best I know how, which, if I’m being honest, isn’t that much.
I’m a big believer that stress is an aggravating factor in any illness, and can even trigger sickness sometimes.
But funny thing about stress, it’s there no matter what. Even if it’s just sweating the small stuff, no one leads such a charmed life that stress in some small way doesn’t crop up now and again.
It’s all about how you “manage” it.
And therein lies the problem for me. I don’t “manage” stress very well, unless you think crying jags, lack of sleep, working till it hurts, lashing out and eating poorly counts as handling it.
This has been one of those weeks that I can’t take a break, can’t get me time, can’t unwind without a nagging feeling that I should be focusing my energy on other tasks.
I’ve never fully grasped that taking care of myself is a job only I can do (and do best), as opposed to all that external work, which someone else can probably do.
If this seems like a common theme for me, it is. Here’s the drill: I run myself ragged to the brink of sickness, bitch and moan about it, rinse, repeat.
At some point, it all falls down.
And now for some different programming, where I share the latest antics of my cat, Jules. I can’t for the life of me understand why she is pulling clean socks out of the laundry and arranging them in some pattern. But now, she’s incorporated Nick’s boxers. What is she trying to tell us?