For crying out loud!



Big girls don’t cry… Oh yes they bloody do!

Shhh! Don’t tell everyone, but much to my annoyance, I find that these days I cry at the drop of a hat. I was never a big crier, and this change baffles me. Sometimes, the tears flow out of sheer exasperation, as I sit in the bath at 4am in a bid to soothe my aching body & sometimes, it might just be that I want to do something, but simply can’t, cue the waterworks – If tears were currency, Id be a millionaire Rodney!!

I’ve spent years bleating on to my children to buck their ideas up and not to cry over spilt milk, it’s not the end of the world and now thanks to MS… I can’t, I do and it is!

Sometimes, I cry at a mere thought of pain, other times, I cry because everything hits me like a tonne of bricks, I hit my MS wall if you like! Don’t fight the urge to blub – let it out. My Granny always said “better out than in” and it’s so true.  It’s at times like these, neither synthetic or holistic medicines will do, I find a little laughter or a fit of the giggles, is the only potion I need!.




Me: Excuse me waiter, I’d like to cancel my side order of sour self pity for one and change it for a big juicy, lip smacking bowl of tee- hee please!

MS: Meh – we’re out!!!

Let’s face it, us MS warriors don’t laugh enough and before you all yell “silly bitch” – I’m only to aware that we CRY for a damn good reason and pity parties are a regular occurrence. BUT Sometimes, just a simple titter will escape from my quivering lips over something silly I’m watching on TV, but sometimes when I need it most, real laughter refuses to participate. It sits on the sidelines with arms firmly crossed and refuses to join in, rather like a sulking teenager! –  I try and I try but I just can’t turn that bloody frown upside down!

So, the only option is to try and tickle my own funny bone in the things around me. Most of the time, this tactic works. MFH bares the brunt of my warped sense of humour –

Yesterday, I just had to laugh when he tripped over the Westie ball of fluff and dropped his much anticipated, oh so sticky bun on said Westie and said Westie was now covered in copious amounts of glistening raspberry jam – I say laugh, I nearly wet myself and salty tears were flowing down my rapidly flushing cheeks, it was the funniest thing Id seen in ages ( except for the day when I watched my MFH step backwards into a steaming cowpat) … I sounded like a hyena being strangled or a Doberman with a rubber band around the willy, all high pitched a shrill – but god it felt f***ing wonderful – now, now – don’t judge!

I just couldn’t stop and this time, I was crying for a good reason and bless him, MFH didn’t mind, he’s like my emotional punch bag – on any given day, the general flow in the ring  (er, sorry in our house) is..

Wham – left hook…tears

Bam – right hook… giggles

wham bam – sucker punch…  gibbering wreck, laughter, tears, sniggers, more tears –

Ding ding – end of round one – and he’s there, mopping my brow, wiping my tears and showering me with hugs and giving words of encouragement –

Ding ding – round 2 – and repeat!

Just incase I forgot to mention, I think MFH is bloody brilliant – and the award for lifetime achievement (superior ability, special effort, a great or heroic deed) goes to MFH… gold star for that man please!

He’s my PUWMS hero (putting up with my shit) in so many ways. As my official carer, I’ve explained many times that he’s doing things wrong – poor love can’t win, some things, I think we can all agree, don’t come naturally to a man, BUT the one constant in our house is BIG GIRLS DO CRY – but laughter must follow, whenever possible. And we do laugh, mostly in the face of adversity, but we do!

I cry a lot thanks to buggering MS, but laughter definitely helps! So if you’re feeling blue, its ok to have a good weep but try and find your funny, it’s worth the search!

My recipe for this MS life..

1 teaspoon of salty tears

2 teaspoons of tickle my fancy

2 cups of hugs from a hero

2 cups of good old fashioned loving

Mix together and serve daily…



Lost For Words -A Time Before Brain Fog

Lost for words!

I’ve been staring blankly at my bloody computer for the last half hour, to anyone watching me I must look totally gormless. Some would call it writers block, I call it tosspot brainfog, one of the many delights of my constant companion, MS!

Im trying to put pen to paper – sorry, fingers to keys but Im just lost for words! Our youngest,Georgie would say I’m over thinking it but with ms on one shoulder and clarity on the other it’s hard not to. So, I’m going to stop fannying around now and just go for it –

My neuro thinks I’ve had MS since my mid twenties and looking back it all makes sense – the mind blowing headaches, insomnia, overwhelming exhaustion, feeling like a wilting lettuce and at times, out of character behaviour to name but a few. I’ve been mis diagnosed so may times, as the Drs and specialists scratched their heads as to why I felt so fucking awful al the time, thank god for health plans!. One top London specialist actually wrote on my notes” this lady presents… blah, blah, blah – I put it down to having three children and not being able to cope” what a bastard, seriously!  needless to say MFH told him where he could stick his £200 bill!

I actually had an MRI at a posh London hospital and was informed they had found a small non-malignant growth, but it was nothing to worry about. An early lesion mis diagnosed seems likely looking back and they call themselves specialist, wankers the lot of them.

Over the years, I’ve also been diagnosed with Addisons disease, chronic fatigue syndrome  to name but a few and when all else failed – M.E. It was like playing Russian Roulette – you never knew what illness you would have from one specialist to another.

After what normal people call a midlife crisis, we sold our house and with two removal lorries in tow, we piled 2 nutty adults, 3 stroppy kids and our old Spaniel into our trusty Volvo and moved lock, stock and barrel to Spain on a whim.

To be continued…