Do What You Can, when you can

One of the hardest things I’ve had to accept with MS is the necessity of asking for help.

Pride and self-reliance dissipate remarkably quickly when you find yourself splayed on the floor and you no longer have the capacity to get up.

In extremis, I then ask for help. But if I’d asked earlier, the whole farrago probably could have been avoided. This lesson took a while to sink in; indeed, I’m not sure I’ve made it out of kindergarten yet!

Kindergarten. Yes, this disease does infantilize.

I can no longer put on my shoes. Each new strategy to do so worked for a while, but eventually, they all failed. I suppose that if I started the day before, I’d have a chance. I’d forget why I was putting them on, but by then the challenge would be enough.

I still find it weird as a 61-year-old bloke to watch my 22-year-old son slapping them on in seconds.

Hey, I used to beat him at tennis. He was only 8, and I didn’t have MS yet. Give me a break; it was still becoming increasingly difficult!

So, yes, I’ve become more receptive of asking for help and not feeling guilty. It’s not any fault of ours, we’re just dealing with the cards that life has dealt.