I knew my life had changed when I found myself on the Internet looking for metal dishes. I have chipped or broken every dish I own. If dropping things was an Olympic sport, I would be Mary Lou Retton.
I have also dropped and broken remote controls, phones and steaming pans of dinner. I’ve even dropped knives, which have stuck in the kitchen floor.
You know that ugly vase Great Aunt Edna gave you? Bring it over. It will be a distant memory.
I developed my dropping habit in 2008.
After I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.
I thought I had pink eye. I lost all vision in my right eye. Finally, after numerous doctor visits and tests, I heard the words I never wanted to hear, “You have MS.”
I was not sure where to go or how to deal with it. I think I used denial as my main coping mechanism. I didn’t want to tell my kids or my family because I didn’t want to see them look at me like I was broken.
When you have a disease like this — or any disease for that matter — people tend to give you the “Aww…” face. You know. It’s that look people get when they watch one of those ASPCA ads. It is that face that says, “I am sad for you and I really don’t know if you are going to make it.”
It defeated me to see this look from the people I love. I felt I was letting them down by getting sick.
I am the typical oldest child. I take care of everybody. So to say out loud that I wasn’t OK … was horrible. I felt lost. And I felt angry — at myself and at the world.
How would my kids cope with a mom who was trying to cook dinner and hide her IV lines at the same time? What would my ultra-athletic husband do if he had to push me around in a wheelchair?
I think this is what spurred me along. I didn’t want to have my boys or my husband miss out on anything because I was dealt a bad hand.
To be 32 and facing something like this was too much.
So I forced myself to laugh. I decided to simply laugh at this ludicrous situation and find the irony in it all.
On the bad days, I remind myself of the perks – up-front parking at stores and no lines at Disneyland. I know taken out of context this sounds morbid. But you have to find the bright side in these things or you will never get out of bed.
I know I will never be at the same level I was four years ago and I have become OK with that. I know now that I am stronger and braver than I ever gave myself credit for. I can also laugh at myself like I never was able to before.
I know I am going to fall down and slur my words sometimes. I know some people will label me a drunk when these things happen.
I also know that finding humor in all this will keep me from falling apart. I’m not saying there aren’t days when the tears flow freely or I just don’t want to fight anymore.
But those days are the ones that need laughter the most.
Kristi Davis is married with two sons. She blogs regularly for fruitamoms.com.