A mixtape for multiple sclerosis

A mixtape for multiple sclerosis

Wednesday 13 December 2017

Cold hands (Warm heart)

So, let's talk snow.
There's been four days of relentless sky-swelling deluges where we live and as a result even the most unloved streets look like Christmas cards.

So white, so pretty, so perfectly pristine.

So effing, effing cold.

Good lord, I hate the cold.
And, by logical extension, the snow.

Yes, I know that makes me sound like some sort of selfish weather Grinch who isn't thinking of excited children's hopes* for fun days of gambolling in the park with sledges! And snowballs! And cheery snowmen with wonky carrot noses and scarves stolen from indulgent grandparents.

But there's a good few MS-ey reasons why I have come to hate the white stuff that spread far wider than the travel disruption, the school closure palava or our cats whining incessantly that they don't want to go outside and relieve their distended bladders and glaring at me as if the whole sorry mess is ENTIRELY MY FAULT.

And these reasons are:
* legs seize up leading to painfully slow progress
* brain seizes up leading to, er, painfully slow progress
* speech slows down leading to garbled pleas for help, immense frustration and flapping of increasingly stiff arms like some sort of deranged penguin

The reasons why the cold causes such difficulties have been outlined in this interesting and helpful article from the MS Trust.

For the moment, at least, it looks like the cold snap is here to stay. So while it is, I'm bundled up in layers, working from home (typing in fingerless gloves like some sort of modern day Bob Cratchit) trying to regulate my temperature with a constant supply of tea.

I might have a hot bath too - although as the heat triggers Uhthoff's phenomenon and quite often causes temporary loss of vision in my damaged eye, perhaps I won't.

Argh, the impossible balancing act of multiple sclerosis.

On reflection, perhaps I'll just wait it out wrapped in hay lying prone in a cardboard box like a Blue Peter tortoise.
But with rather more gin and mince pies than our scaly televisual friends may have been allowed.



:: Cold hands (Warm heart) by Brendan Benson 

*I am actually hoping those children are having a lovely time in the snow. I did brave the garden with my daughter to build a small snowman. Then had to lie down under many blankets for a couple of hours, but it was snowtally (sorry) worth it.

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