Converse-ly

Life is.
I am o.k. Of course I can’t say I am happy with the way I am now but, I can say there are some things that are o.k.
Converse.
I can’t say that I’ve ever worn unsensible shoes. Oh, of course, my platforms of the early 70s may have landed close to the unsensible. However, I was 16 and well balanced. I walked a mile and 1/2 to school and back in those days. No problem.
Converse were a thing back then too. And hiking boots. Over the years I’ve worn both. Now it’s strickly Converse. Well, maybe on Sundays I wear some flats with more dress appeal. But if my Converse match the color of choice for that day they get worn dressy or not. I have a few different colors of them. And I think I’ll probably have a few more by the time I won’t need any at all.
Canes.
I can’t really say I am pleased with having to use a cane. Pre-need I was known to use a walking stick. When I was a wee lass, I would use a dead branch from an evergreen to aid in my woodland play. They would serve as a horse, a staff, a sword, and a fishing pole. You know. Enter the woods. Find a stick.
Later years. Umbrellas would be put into to service as both sun guard, rain guard, and walking stick. Then employed as a cane.
Then entered the full use of a cane. Except at home. Where I can use the furniture and the walls to brace myself. Like the Converse I have several of different colors and of different styles. People often agree with me. If you need a cane, one might as well enjoy the one you need.
Pince-nez.
The easy affliction that lead to my diagnosis. My second, or maybe it was my third flare up was double vision. That sent me to a doctor, who sent me for an MRI, which gave me the reason of my troubles. This eye doctor couldn’t help me with this affliction since it was nerve damage in my brain but, he did suggest eyeglasses. I really didn’t want eyeglasses. I really didn’t need eyeglasses. Except readers. And yes, I did have several of those in diffenet colors.
During one of my web adventures, shortly after my eye doctor appointment, I came across an interging antique pair of pince-nez. Actually a lot of 5 pince-nez in an online auction. I won the auction and had a couple of the mounts fitted with my prescription. Wa. La. I am a pince-nez wearing lady. It’s been almost 6 years.
O.k. that’s a good spin on my life and how I am now.
Dee.
A couple years ago I started to Identifying myself as Dee. Big Dee sometimes. It was a counter swing to my depression. You’ve proably read about Native Americans, and peoples of other cultures, and including Hebrews, would change their names or have them changed when a life event happened. Abram to Abraham. Naomi to Mara. Well, MS is a life event. So I call myself Dee now. Tho’ few have picked it up. That’s o.k. I know who I am.
Lately, I’ve been trying to quantify my life. I don’t suppose it needs to be even talked about and for the most part it isn’t. Except when I need a valve to be opened, to release a little pressure.
Those closest to me are the only ones that hear the hiss and the rumbling of the rocker cap. That would be, My husband and our son who lives at home still. Maybe the neighbors somwtimes. I don’t handle my disablity very well. sometimes. I get frustrated when what I want to do is next to impossible or can’t be done at all. Even some days when the difficulty of what was a simple task last year, last month, last week, yesterday, or an hour ago. Sometimes an action that tasks me beyond what I can stand may evokes a cry of dismay, a solemn tear or an angry snap.
I try not to let my day get to this stage but sometimes life doesn’t run that way. I have had to let a lot of stuff go. Stuff I’ve loved to do. I won’t go into this list. It doesn’t matter to anyone but me. And for the most part I’ve been o.k. with letting them go. They were and are more a source of frustration than a pleasure now anyway.
Today I thought I should just write an apology. One that says:
“I’m sorry I can’t do that.”

or maybe one that says:
“Sorry I can’t help.”
It’s hard to see so many needs and be positively unable to be of any help.
I hate having to ask for help for myself.
Dee is me.

By Bianchi

Follower of Jesus. Wife, Mom, Gma, Fire extinguisher or starter, Head pancrease, Time keeper,