Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Old Woman

Sometimes, living with MS is like living with a child. I was thinking this the other day when I was helping her with the bath. I hate doing this. She gets the bathroom extremely hot, she splashes everywhere, she wears wax earplugs so she doesn't get an ear infection, and she has me wash her back and her hair. I was literally thinking while this was happening, Dear Lord, I am NEVER having children.

Sometimes living with MS is like watching grass grow. We sit down to eat dinner together every night, and I have grown up with my mother, who eats so fast, it's like she's taking a vacuum to her plate. Therefore, I have inherited her ability to snarf down a whole meal in about 15 minutes. This also comes from practice during my shifts at Big Retail Store when I go home for breaks. Oftentimes, I only have 15 minutes to eat, and therefore need to eat faster. So you must understand the agony that I go through, being on the verge of ADHD, unable to sit still while I watch an 80-odd-year-old woman take five minutes to chew each of the 15 quarters of ¼ inch sliced cucumber that pepper her salad. You can understand why I can't sit still for that long.

Sometimes living with MS is like living with a TV that stays on all the time, whether you're in the room with it or not, constantly spewing useless information that you can't really change whether you want to or not, and no matter what channel you turn it to, you rarely find anything interesting. MS reads the paper. She watches political TV. And therefore, she always has the most useless information, or information about stuff that I already know about. And when she is energetic, she will call me every five minutes to spout this useless information.

Sometimes living with MS is like living with a pet you don't really like. For instance, you bought this little football dog that you thought would make a nice, small, less-mess pet, but all it does is bark all the time, ask to be let outside, and whine to be fed. While MS doesn't ask to be let outside, she'll call me ten minutes before she's actually ready for bed to do things that I cannot do until she is ready for bed, and in bed. Like a dog, she doesn't understand that when she stands in your way, you can't do what it wants you to. She'll call me down so I can watch her sit on the toilet for ten minutes while she changes her clothes, and I am taskless. And then, like the dog that stands in your way, she won't get all the way into bed, so I can't take her fucking socks off.

Sometimes, living with MS is like living with an old woman. Oh, wait. That isn't a simile.


Alex said...