I realized today that I’ve been getting bitter.

Me! Bitter! I can’t do that. I’m already sarcastic. Biting, witty, blunt, and often I’ve even been termed “abrasive.” I cannot possibly allow myself to be bitter about my condition as well. That would be sacrilege.

—>Okay, I am taking a moment away from whatever kind of thought pattern I thought I had in order to thank the brilliant programmer who decided one day to include spell-check automatically inside of text-boxes in internet browser tabs. I remember when I used to have to get a dictionary to look up how to spell the word “sacrilege” when I couldn’t remember. In the days before the prevalence of the worldwide web… in the “way, way, back when” *lol* Pre-1992. A 1-second right click now used to be a motivated ordeal – first you had to get up, then you had to find a dictionary, and then you had to find a word that you obviously couldn’t spell correctly to begin with. Nowadays, the computer guesses for you. (Does that make us stupider? Do we lose the ability to search for ourselves?)

As a writer with MS, my legs and my mind DEEPLY thank whomever came up with the idea and whomever has since had the responsibility of implementing it. You make it easier for me (and everyone else) to be a better speller. 🙂

—————–

ANYHOW.

I caught myself being bitter when I thought I was being funny, and I realized I wasn’t.

So all of my friends are watching the World Cup. (Woo.)

I so couldn’t care. Honestly, I wish I could, but I can’t! I posted on Facebook about it, and then it came out through comments that I liked playing soccer, but not watching soccer… and then that I liked playing soccer, when I was able to. which I’m not anymore.

And it came out like that without me noticing before I hit enter/send.

How more glaringly obvious is that cry for help/attention?

Bitter-Cripple-Mean-Ol’Granny-Hate coming straight through the screen at ya, and from MY fingers no less! I wanted to kick myself.

But it’s been years now since I got to really enjoy sports. And I hate that. I mean, I really hate that I kind of want to shut out part of the world because I let myself think about how I can’t do things. How ridiculously limiting would that get over time? How much life would I miss out on if I tried to ignore everything that I felt like I couldn’t personally be a part of. And how sad to prejudge what I can and cannot do if I don’t even try.

Every day is different. My seizures have been pretty stable – only 2 or 3 a day. Not too bad, really. I’ve finally accepted that I need a shower chair. In fact, I want one. I don’t know why I was embarrassed about it for so long.

Showering is definitely the scariest thing in the world for me. That’s why I keep them really short, really cold (heat can cause MS pseudoexacerbations which can induce seizures, which, in the shower are more dangerous than usual). The thing is, coming to that realization has not been… pretty. Or easy on my self-esteem.

On the VERY bright side of things, Adam very much understands and helps out a lot with keeping me from being nasty. (So don’t worry. I’m clean.)

Anyway, the reason that I started writing this post is that I know that I’ve been focusing the wrong way at the world.

I’ve been spending too much time looking at what I cannot do and not at what I can, which is why when I got a call out of the blue from one of the people who adopted one of my past foster kittens, it was a welcome wakeup call.

This is Sox, now named Tuxedo. He was part of our first litter of foster kittens.

His new owner was kind enough to send us a bunch of pictures, and it let me know what a difference Adam and I made in the life not only of this kitten, but in the life of somebody else. And that was when I could do so much less than I can now.

So I need to shut the heck up and quit whining. Sure, I’m still hurting. Sure, I’m still kinda a weeny about showering, and yeah, I really miss participating in sports and working out.

But I still get to do some really great things.

I still make a difference in this world.

And that’s what matters.