Hard Stuff

I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Psalm 139:14

 

Went swimming for the first time in four years yesterday – I got a scholarship to a Salvation Army Kroc center – the first pool that I could easily access. Very nice place, new swimsuit, Mom came to help. I was told years ago that exercising in the pool was good for people with MS – because you can’t fall doing stuff in the water!

 

I knew I had to be mindful of the time I spent in the water – too much and I’d wipe myself out. I just didn’t know that my legs wouldn’t kick when told to. I “pushed off” the way I always have, and my legs just hung there in the water. It was a surprise – another bad one! I had already noticed how my legs really felt the resistance from the water, but to tell my legs to do something, and them to just not was offensive.

 
The problem was not so much a lack of strength as that the demand for action wasn’t being received by the muscles. As much as I’ve always known that demyelization results in a breakdown in communication between head and muscle, there’s just nothing like seeing the results in action – or lack thereof.

You know, being only five feet tall, I never held aspirations to be great on the basketball court. As a child, I learned to accept that I wasn’t flexible enough to do a backbend like my more lithe friends could. Those things never really bothered me. But when my legs don’t move like they always did?  It’s a real hit.

I’m reminding myself that, like my height and flexibility, there’s nothing I’ve knowingly done wrong to make my legs like this. Still, my mind keeps looking for a solution to this problem. I don’t know that there is one. I will keep going to the pool, though. Who knows? Maybe I’ll regain some of what I’ve lost, even if it’s only a firmer waistline.

 

I’ve also been accepted into a Gateway to Wellness course through the MSAA, which will be held in a Physical Therapy setting, with a PT leading each session. I’m looking forward to learning more about my limitations, and what a professional thinks I might be able to get back. In THAT setting, I’ll be prepared to identify the losses and learn. It won’t be as much of a surprise as swimming was.

You know, I guess I’ve spent two years accepting the fatigue and cognitive issues, and the loss of some small muscle ability – like holding a pen or applying eyeliner.  Really, the cognitive was the hardest to take. Now that I’ve gotten used to those things and stabilized there somewhat, it’s probably just a healthy “next step” to identify the losses in large muscles. I just didn’t know how much there was.

 
In spite of this hit, I choose to believe that since I’m still here, God can still use me. He doesn’t need the parts that don’t work. He needs a willing heart.

But could you do something for me? Over the next few days, if you're standing while in the shower or while brushing your teeth, give Him a shout out - because you are fearfully and wonderfully made.