I’ve mentioned before that I prefer to forget that I have MS. I have come to realise that this is both good and bad. You see, mentally it is wonderful not to be constantly thinking, ‘I’ve got MS, I’ve got MS’ – this can surely only serve to prevent you from doing things and lead to depressive thoughts. Physically, however, it’s a different story and ignoring MS inevitably leads to over-doing it in the most painful of fashion…
Cue yesterday – a beautiful sunny day, one of the first we’ve seen in months and months. After a morning out with the children I figured I’d give our car a quick wash – I’ve wanted to get my bucket and sponge out for weeks and with the kids looking for entertainment I decided it was the perfect time to do it. I should probably mention that my husband forewarned me that he would not be helping and strongly advised me not to do it; apparently he understands my fatigue better than I do. Well, I didn’t need his help anyway; I had 2 of my children (aged 4 & 3) both eagerly waiting to assist. Bucket in one hand, sponge in the other I confidently strode over to the first car (I forgot to mention there were 2 cars in need of a clean, that’s right, I wanted to wash TWO cars) … Anyway, as I worked my way round car no. 1 I realised I was gradually sinking lower and lower, my legs were losing both the power and the feeling to remain standing. By the time I made it half way round the car I was on my knees determinedly scrubbing away along the lower part of the framework. It was becoming clear that leaving the roof ‘til last was a mistake. As my kids energetically bustled around me smearing dirty water on random parts of the car, dropping their sponge in the mud and paying particular attention to the tyres I took a couple of minutes to recharge my failing batteries. It takes a lot for me to admit defeat and a lot more to admit my husband is right, but I’m sorry to say that at this point I had to admit defeat and in so doing accept that my husband was mumble mumble mumble. Looking up at the encrusted dirt on the car roof I just about summoned the strength to chuck the bucket of water over the top, hoping that this would leave the entire car sparkling with cleanliness. My aim, however, went slightly awry and instead of soaking the car I soaked the driveway.
My next move? To lie on the nearest sofa with my 3 yr old at my feet whining that she wanted to help clean the other car. And so my husband has driven to work today in a dirty car streaked with grimy water stains and smeary windows.
At least I tried.
First published 23 April 2018