Twenty Four Hours

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What a difference a day makes.


Sitting here on the lounge, it’s 5pm and I am in my PJ’s but I am awake. Yesterday at this time I was curled up in the hammock in my work clothes having a snooze and a little cry.


I have just finished my second (and last) work day for the week and I am feeling good. I did not feel good at 5pm yesterday.


I had had a day where I felt like dementia was setting in. I was tired, confused and having trouble remembering the simplest things. It had started earlier in the day and I noticed it while I was walking Daniel to school. I was frustrated because I had realised that I had forgotten to do a simple thing on Friday afternoon. I had meant to go back to the chemist to pick up a script that I had dropped in earlier that day. I know that this seems like a little thing. Something that everyone does now and then.


When I do something like this it instantly starts the anxiety about disease progression and possible cognitive decline (also the risk of PML but I won’t let myself dwell on this). I am scared about the things that I am not remembering or noticing that I am missing.


Driving home from work yesterday was hard work. If I have ever wished for a Tesla self driving car it was then. Getting home from work was hard work and the evening stretching in front of me before I could go to bed felt like an impossibility to cope with.


Today I feel fine. I had a great day at work where I was able to juggle more than one thing at a time, I chatted happily with work friends, I managed to string sensible sentences together and I even cracked some jokes.  I popped out for a coffee with a work friend in the afternoon and told her a little bit about these different days I have had.


Yesterday I stayed fairly quiet as I was busy concentrating on looking like I was holding it together, I was taking extra time processing information and my attention span was a little dismal. I got through my day but I knew that I was slower and less switched on than usual.


I will try to remember for next time that a lot can change in 24 hours. It’s the nature of the beast that is MS.


I can do this.





Author: boulevardedreaming

My journey through diagnosis with MS and the first years of living positively every day.

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