Some Motivation Required

some_motivation_required_exercise-300x225My wife volunteers weekly at an adaptive yoga class here in town. It’s the first I know of around here that’s geared towards people with physical disabilities that limit their movement. Because I have heard so often from people what a healthy-looking person I am to have MS, I didn’t really consider myself in the same need of adaptive yoga as the students who entered class in wheelchairs or with paraplegia. In fact, I was the only one who showed up not in a wheelchair. Talk about feeling like the biggest walking punchline in the room; not only did I feel like the odd man out inside the studio… but walking out after class was confronted in the remaining daylight by how much safer and slower I did need my yoga. During the hour-long class it was made apparent just how little punchline there was, as I felt as challenged as anyone else. I left sore with a body that felt cleaner (rain notwithstanding).

medium_4584502251I left, too, with an understanding of my own limitations that had been previously been swept under the table. Maybe in conjunction with our recent transfer from up- to down- stairs bedrooms I was better able to pick up on little lies I was telling myself. It’s really been sinking in slowly that my ability to walk should not be taken for granted. Yes, I’m young — only in my early thirties; alas, my condition, in relation to this, is not. My pelvis continues to be wracked by the same pain during the night as it did when I was 13. I had MS for more than half my life before it was diagnosed a few years ago. My “normals” aren’t completely new — in the way a frog can be boiled without knowing, I have adapted as bridges present themselves for crossing. So now there’s a cane involved, whatever, I’m still not being boiled… right?

Wait, which metaphor am I using again?

Point is, I think, that I’m scared that RRMS is over and SPMS has started. I don’t feel as much remitting after a relapse… in fact, I am uncertain if I’m not having an exacerbation right now (increases in bladder and spasticity problems) and I’m scared that the Gilenya isn’t working.

419140_470645949683011_886272741_nFeeling that little gut-punch of believing the worst of yourself is something I’m training as a red flag. I am no stranger to anxiety and I am tired of it taking over — when fear starts, it is time for a GRATITUDE ADJUSTMENT:

  • I am grateful for adaptive yoga for people with physical disabilities.
  • I am grateful to do something good for my body that doesn’t cost a worse price.
  • I am grateful that there are groceries in the kitchen.
  • I am grateful for all of my Rx medications.
  • I am grateful for a fun morning out with Mom this week.
  • I am grateful that Cowboy got to see his ridic-beloved Grandma.
  • I am grateful for Facebook photos of my nieces.
  • I am grateful for my amazing wife; truly, I mean this every time I write it even more than the last time.
  • I am grateful for a SSDI court date!
  • I am grateful for silver linings that open up the end of a tunnel.
  • I am grateful for you. Thank you.
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