Abbey x

Beth is down in Illinois, so I'm on my own in the house. I was dreading this, as the house is far too quiet since Abbey's death. Abbey's passing was totally unexpected, we thought she had hurt her back, and that we were going to the vet to get some dog aspirin. Then we found out that she was a lot sicker than she looked, one of the last images of her that I remember was her padding happily into the vets.

Everything  turned awful very quickly, and she passed away with Beth and I holding her as she died, We didn't have to put her down, she was just done. She was an amazing pooch, loving, with her own way of doing things. she was the reason that I was up every morning, at the time she felt her breakfast should be served. One of the horrors of MS is how much time that you have to spend alone, as the world moves on without you. Abbey made every day easier for me, no matter how difficult ieverything was. Thank you  so much Abbey, you rest now, good girl x

Not waving...

I'm now typing away using a keyboard that is connected to my iPad mini. This works out just fine, which is just as well, considering that I drowned my computer using a pint of water propelled by a twitchy wrist a couple of weeks ago. This should be a message to us all, 

"I don't care how much work you've done, how pretty it is, how happy you are with your lovely screen and how pleased as punch you are that you can keep all of your stuff in one place. You are a glass of water from doom!"

Paper can be dried out.....

Pep.

I've had MS for 26 years, 28 if I take it back to the warning shots across the bow, whilst I was LSE. This is a long arse time, more than half my life. I cant remember not being sick.

However, I do remember having a lot of fun, while the nightmare unfolded. I got to do a lot if things I always wanted to do, and do them as well as I could. I had to stop doing them as the nightmare progressed, and once I'd stopped sulking, and MS sulks are epic, I always found myself looking around for something else to try.

Currently, I get to do a radio play, something That I always wanted to do, and I still get to do impro, which I have loved doing for years.

Having wondered how on earth I am still here for the last few years, I have concluded that I'm not going anywhere for a while.

What am I saying? We all look into abyss sometimes, some of us spend our life-dancing on the edge. Nothing is impossible, just really tricky, and it can be brutally unfair.  My advice? Keep dancing, there is fun in there somewhere.