These days, my life is sort of messy; I have no control over my bladder. I am inclined to wet myself fairly frequently. It’s messy and it feels like an assault. I have always been a bit persnickety about my appearance and about cleanliness. I can no longer worry about those issues because if I did I would do nothing but clean myself up all day long. That would be a waste – of time, and of energy. Instead, I have to learn to live with the loss of control over my bladder. It wins.

Back in the day I was very persnickety. Everything I wore had to be perfect. My makeup had to be perfect. I had to smell perfectly clean. Today, I feel like it’s an accomplishment to bathe every morning, to wash my hair and my face. This morning, I was happy to do all of that on my own. I didn’t need help; I didn’t call for help; I was happy to do all of that on my own.

MS is a real confidence killer; it makes us dependent. It makes us call out for help even when we’re doing the most basic thing. It makes it difficult to eat without messing up our clothes. It makes it difficult to move from place to place. It makes it difficult to get in and out of bed, to brush our hair, even to go to the bathroom by ourselves. MS is a real confidence killer.

The little spasms. The way our hands shake just a little. A little bit of urine comes out onto our Depends. I think about that all the time because it’s my pants. I’m afraid to drink too much because what goes in eventually comes out. I love my coffee in the morning, but it eventually comes out. It is stupid to try to make it to the bathroom when it starts to come out. If I do (try to make it to the bathroom) then I will fall, and falling means that Deb will have to call the EMTs.

That’s embarrassing; when they come I am often half-dressed or naked. They lecture me about being more careful. Deb gets pissed because it’s so costly to have them come out. I feel a bit like a child, a really bad child when it happens. I’m often naked on the floor regretting my lack of attention, my tendency to move without thinking. It’s all about my wanting to be independent, but that desire gets me into trouble more often than not.

These days, my life is sort of messy; I have no control over my bladder. I have to use intermittent catheters and often have to call for help when I fall onto the floor. It’s embarrassing and I can always identify the movement I did something wrong, the movement that led to the fall. It’s embarrassing and I wish that it would not happen. My life is sort of messy because I leak and I fall.


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