If I were being completely honest, the cruel nature
of my forgetfulness should cause me to cry. But, in this moment I cannot stop
laughing even though I should be apologizing. A foolish grin lifts my otherwise
flat facial features, and my funny bone has been tickled. I regard my absent-mindedness
as hysterical!
The sun peaks through our half-shut blinds and I
roll onto my side, thinking of all the tasks to be done during the day. I
venture to complete one so ordinary it does not deserve to be placed on a “to
do” List. This particular high-energy morning has me moving a plastic container
filled with winter sweaters from storage. But, when you have MS completing any
chore merits some accomplishment. For
the able body – it ranks as comparable to brushing and then flossing your
teeth. OK - for some people, flossing daily may be considered high ranking! Anyway you get the gist of what I’m alluding
to about a routine task. I puff up my chest and consider the action as a
monumental achievement since I have needed the warmth of these sweaters for
weeks.
I did say I moved the container, but I may have neglected
to mention the finer points of my story.
A detail like how tired I became carrying it the few short steps of our
hallway. Well let me just say, I
struggled, and in the end put it down in the doorway of my bedroom. Any plans to organize the contents of the
container would have to wait. I back out
of the bedroom sounding like Arnold Schwarzenegger, “I’ll be back”.
But the day is lost to my returning upstairs. I have no energy for the job of sorting
through the sweaters and have totally forgotten the placement of the container
(another MS symptom referred to as brain
fog). Out of sight, out of mind. That is until Ken arrives home in the
evening.
After the customary kiss hello, I ask Ken about his
day. Sorting the mail he mumbles something
about vodka or wine after the craziness
of his workday. He looks tired but
asks about my day. Did I get anything new accomplished?
Was my energy up to any tasks?
I think a moment but recall nothing and answer my usual – no, not much of anything got done today.
Kicking off his shoes he begins to climb the stairs
to change out of his work clothes. There
is a basket of laundry at the foot of the steps waiting for him to bring
upstairs. How many times must I trip over the things you leave on the floor or in
doorways? I swear one of these days you
are going to kill me!
The house is quiet for a few seconds, but in that silence
I remember - Oh Yes!! The container!! Isn’t it wonderful! I moved it this morning…. I did accomplish something after all. The day was not a complete waste. And with that thought I hear Ken yelling as
he falls forward clutching the laundry basket. NOT AGAIN CHRIS!! What the hell is this container doing in the
doorway!! You almost killed me!
I wince until I find out he is all right. And once
again find myself laughing and apologizing at the same moment. Oops, I did it again….
(Dedicated to Ken - for helping me see the humor in life)
