This morning has been a bit of a rough one for me.  I hate to cry, but this morning, once again, I have been a crybaby.  Pretty much woke up that way.  So today I am joining the "woe is me" club. I apologize for that now, up front, and don’t blame you in the least for moving on to a better post.

It's been a long tough year in my corner of the world. Hardly unique in this time and space, but this is my story. I am the maker of my life and it's sorrows and I take full responsibility for that. Four and a half decades of life and the stuff that fills it brought me to here, but it is this past year that I write about.

Roughly a year ago after an especially stressful summer I decided I wanted out of my (at that time) 21-year marriage. I had had enough and wanted more than anything to just walk away. I'm not made of that stuff apparently and stayed while trying to figure out how to be in a financial position that would support myself upon leaving. Still working on that. Finally after our 22nd anniversary I realized that the time had come. That staying was causing yet more pain for both of us. So I announced that I was leaving and within a couple of days had moved. Moved to my mom and sister's house.  Whoop-te-doo. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful to be here, but it is far short of my goal to be on my own.

Fast forward to today.  I am writing this from my son's hospital room and I should be in a much better frame of mind because the end is in sight. The end of the hospital stay that is. It looks like he'll be coming home on Tuesday. I think the realization of the care he'll need for a while atleast is part of my tears today.

About 3-4 weeks ago, my 17-year-old son began complaining of pain in his left leg. Having just started working at Mickey D's, we didn't take it too seriously, figuring he was just not used to being on his feet so much. Then it very quickly progressed to both legs and losing his balance and coordination.  There were bladder issues beginning also that we didn't know about at that point.

We took him to the doctor at the beginning of this and it was diagnosed as muscle strain or a pull and ibuprofen was prescribed.  In just a couple of days from that we knew there was something more going on but had no clue it would be what it is.  His father, whom he had chosen to live with, expressed concern but it was left to me to make an appointment, which I did, but I still did not realize how bad off he was.

On a Monday I got the appointment and left work during my lunch break to take him to the doctor. I was mortified to find my child hardly able to walk and stand and falling when his legs gave out. Fearing that I would not be able to even get him to the car safely let alone to the doctor's.  Somehow, with amazing courage and determination, he made it to the car, using borrowed crutches, and we got to the doctor appointment. A half hour late, but we got there. At the doctors office as we waited for our turn and I observed his condition it became apparent to me that there was a bladder control problem as well.  When the doctor saw us he was visibly shocked at the deterioration from the week before and quickly sent us to the local hospital for an MRI of his lumbar spine.  

The MRI lab was a traveling 18-wheeler trailer and they waited just for us to get there.  I'm no doctor or technician obviously, but even I could see nothing wrong with the very clear image of my son's spine. The plan was that we would go home after the MRI and return to the doctor's office in the morning. I took him to my new place of residence after grabbing some clean clothes for him, where we had a walk in shower with a seat and a hand held sprayer for a much needed shower.  The poor kid had to literally crawl and scoot his way to the bathroom as he had crumbled to the ground just inside the doorway and was unable to stand again. He is much taller than me and outweighs me by a bit and I had no one available to help me through this whole ordeal. Calling his dad for help at this point since it was time for him to get home from work, we were able to get him onto the toilet seat where he was able to undress and slide into the shower.  All of which required superhuman strength and will on his part and a lot of time. Finally showered and settled on the couch it was decided that was the best place to stay for the night. 

The next day back at the doctor's office, which took hours to get ready for and out the door, he sent us to Primary Children's Hospital emergency for another MRI and a neurologist look.  Here with pictures of the upper spine it was clear that he had demyelination of the spine. Or in other words, my son has MS. Multiple Sclerosis. Something I had wrongly believed would be one thing I would never have to worry about. No one on either side of the families has had anything even similar to it.  I can't even tell you the terror I felt as I watched him lying on the floor, unable to stand or walk that Monday while trying hard not to let him see my terror. To be as calm and reassuring as I could.  Now, with a diagnosis, with the culprit pegged, giving us some direction to go, I could feel only relief and no anger at the disease crippling my son or the randomness of the fates that chose him.  I still do not, but perhaps it will be a delayed reaction.  Time will tell.

My tears this morning were more of a selfish tantrum of frustration and feelings of despair and hopelessness for the life I saw for myself before all this began.  For the possibilities that have been opening up to me, teasing me with their hope then seemingly being pushed back just out of reach again.  They were for desperately needing and wanting arms to just hold me while I cried it out, which is a conundrum in itself since, as I said earlier I hate to cry.  I hate even more to have anyone see me cry. It is not a pretty picture and I often feel ugly enough without adding red and puffy eyes and face.  I fear my life never being my own.

I know, this is just the way life is, etc.  I know, I am just having a tantrum of self-pity in that "woe is me" land and I will recover and go on. But for today, well, I might need you to hold me tonight.