Can't stop the feeling!

We had a lovely holiday in Pembrokeshire last week – ice-cream, sunshine, sandcastles, actual castles and defeating the most unnerving villains ever created at the Doctor Who experience.

As this was a British summer holiday, it wasn't always hot and there was rather a lot of wind, but this didn't deter my daughter and I from donning our wetsuits (useful to fool other beachgoers into thinking you're more active and capable than you actually are) and attempting to bodyboard.

I was pretty determined to try this as part of my newly found gung-ho approach to tackling fear. 

So, with a kindly donated bodyboard, we toddled off down to the sea and had a go.

Oh my word, it wasn't glamorous.

Daughter did well in the shallower waves, keeping balance and managing to stay afloat. I needed to go further out because 40-something-lying-stranded-in-the-shallow-water looks vaguely pathetic. Especially if you're wearing a people fooling wetsuit.

So out I went and onto the board I got. And the waves came. And I got pretty impressively drenched. It was bit scary, very flipping salty, but absolutely great.

Coming out of the water with my eyes closed and flailing around for a towel/tissue/husband's shirt to wipe my face, I suddenly recognised a feeling.

Not one of pride, not one of success, not even one of minor disbelief that I was on a bodyboard in a wetsuit – but an actual feeling. In my actual feet.

I haven't felt anything properly in my legs and feet since a significant relapse I had after my daughter was born almost nine years ago. All nerve pathways controlling temperature and sensation were utterly scrambled.

Nine years of not only being unable to tell if the bath water is hot or cold, but not even recognising that I'm in water. Nine years of being unable to tell if the radiators are on or off or if I'm walking on stone or carpet.

I've cut my feet on glass I didn't realise was in my shoes and unknowingly burned blisters on my legs when a hot water bottle burst in my sleep.

But this holiday, I could feel that the water was both gloriously wet and pleasantly cool. That the rock pools lying in the path of the sun were deliciously warm.

On returning home, I can tell without using my hands that my feet are cold. I know what grass feels like on my feet again, I can step on something sharp and know it hurts.

What I don't know is why I can suddenly feel again. Has it taken nine years for the damage to fade? Has it been incrementally improving without me realising? Has the Tecfidera played any part?* What on earth happened to make me feel again?

I'll ask my MS nurse when I next see her, but until then, this is one time that I am actually happy to be experiencing cold feet.

:: Can't stop the feeling! by Justin Timberlake 

*Unlikely, it's a disease modifier, not a disease mender.