So as we grow up, we learn how to do things like walk and get dressed and feed ourselves… a plethora of tasks that are menial but necessary for life. Yet when a condition like MS comes along and takes your ability to do these things, who then teaches you to do them in a new way? Nobody. That’s who. You basically need to muddle along and find a new way that works for you which can be frustrating and downright fucking soul destroying at times.

Let’s take getting dressed for an example. I can no longer stand unaided making knickers and trousers a particular challenge, which is compounded by the fact that every time I visit the toilet, I have to do both of those things. Oh the joy! Basically every little thing is HARD. FUCKING. WORK. Anyway, none of that moaning, we manage. The worst of it is after a shower. So I now have a delightfully unattractive seat in the shower which allows me the wonderful ability to wash my hair – woohoo! But even with lovely stool in place, taking a shower is exhausting (we’ll cover the Spoon Theory later on) and getting dressed after is almost laughable, I dread to think what a person would make of the sight of me! Luckily no one sees that debacle. So in order to move my legs I must lift them with my hands so knickers/trousers (panties and pants to our American friends) present difficulties of a unique kind. In order to achieve it I have to lay them out on a the floor like so and then lift my legs in one at at time:

Then shimmy them up each leg until they don’t go any further and THEN haul myself up and, one handed, hoist them up over my fat ass whilst holding on to whatever’s available with my other free hand 🙄(Apologies for having caught my hideous foot in that pic!) Luckily, at least for the time being, my top half works so aside from the usual rigmarole of putting a bra on in a steamy shower room it’s thankfully a little easier to dress the top of my body!

That is one, tiny, really rather insignificant task that ends up taking a fucking age to complete and totally depletes any energy reserve I may have had before. And everything is like that. Can’t take a drink to watch TV as I can’t carry it, making a cup of tea is a military-precise operation, getting into bed requires a “Leg Lifter”, cooking a meal… well, that is agonising in every way but I’m fucked if I’m giving that up too. I have gadgets and gizmos to help me do things and get things etc but nothing is done the way I learned to do it the first time. And it’s ever-evolving too; as my condition progresses I have to tweak my new “techniques” – I suppose at least I can’t say it’s boring?!

The Spoon Theory

The spoon theory is an illustrative, easy to understand way to explain to a healthy person what it’s like to live with *insert chronic illness here*

The theory attributes a number of spoons to everyday tasks, the more taxing the activity the higher the number of spoons. Each person begins the day with 12 spoons so if I have a shower and then style my hair, go to work and cook a meal that leaves me with ONE spoon for the rest of the day. As you can probably work out, I’m in a pretty hefty amount of debt to the Spoon Bank and that debt grows daily 🤷🏻‍♀️