I move slowly, hobble a bit and sometimes stumble and fall in the street, but at least I can walk. Still, there is much I cannot do. I no longer drive. I have to cede control and admit dependency. I lean on others regularly, and I hate it.
Days are arduous, small tasks difficult.
I take five minutes to button a shirt, five more to tie a necktie. And I can barely stay awake to go out in the evening. The betting at dinner parties these days is whether I will drop and drown in my coffee. For me, living with M.S. is all about navigating an obstacle course. Crossing the street when I cannot see the other side, finding an address when I cannot read numbers at any distance, climbing stairs with feet that drag.