I've been putting off writing this next entry... I still have a lot of resistance to the compounding episodes that played out in this portion of my life story, I think because I all of the sudden could not ignore the uninvited guest called MS and it stopped fitting neatly at the back of my closet and became much more of my day to day reality.
As I mentioned my Mom and my Step Dad moved out of the city and part of that equated into my Mom selling her little business that could and deciding to celebrate by taking us all on a family get away to Las Vegas; sounds pretty good so far, I know. The thing about Vegas, is that it's hot... It doesn't matter what time of year you go, it's a desert and it is there for HOT. A little known fact to those who do not have MS is that there is a HUGE sensitivity to heat that comes with the disease. In fact I can say from the time of birth that I've never been a big fan of the heat, I was always trying to avoid it. When my Mom and my sister were sun goddesses reading in the sun when I was a wee thing, I had no choice but to be in the pool. If I attempted to lie in the sun with the girls I would feel "weird", which is the most eloquent way I can describe it.
Anyway, we arrived in Vegas and the Strip felt like it was on fire; not only were we in the dessert, but there was also a heat wave- EXCELLENT! The good news when it comes to Vegas is that most of the time you can survive in-doors within the air conditioned havens of the hotels. We were having a BLAST. Foot long margaritas and karaoke video's being made; all the fun that makes Vegas, Vegas. The second night in Vegas was a big night! Mom had found out that none other than Mr. Tony Bennett was playing while we were in town; my Step Dad's favorite. We got dressed up and went out for dinner after a day of site seeing and busy exploring and then made our way to Cesar's Palace for the show.
The concert was nothing less than "marvelous and splendid" as my Step Father would say, it was a perfect end to a perfect day. We went to walk out of the hotel and make our way back to our own and as I stepped from the curb, like I had a million times before, my foot came down and felt like it just kept going and I couldn't find the security of the ground and I took a spill. Before I knew it I was lying on the ground, looking at my family, who were rushing and looking over me. I couldn't feel my legs...
My Step Dad helped me up and I leaned up against the huge fountain as I stood and assessed what the heck was going on. I didn't have a safety pin like my medical team used to expertly prick me up and down, but in rubbing my legs I was pretty sure that they were for all intents and purposes gone below my knees. Yeah for me... The hairstylist who was always on her feet. I sat there awhile and shed a few tears, unable to really articulate what was going on for me or how it happened so fast.
My family supported me into the cab and over to the MGM where we were staying. I felt like a drag. Even though it was my family surrounding me, I was embarrassed; my body was bruised but more importantly and to the point- so was my ego. I went straight up to the room and laid down to sleep. "Why now? Why here?" Were the questions bumping around my head as tears quietly rolled down my cheeks, I was rolled over on my side so that my sister, who I was sharing the room with, wouldn't see.
In the morning I woke to Mom at our door. My sister answered it and she announced the "new" plan of the day... I was sure she hadn't slept much herself, knowing the way that she worries and she confirmed it by telling us that she was the first one down by the pool that morning to book a cabana. Mom thought a quiet day was in order and I think in her head might "fix" me right up, but she knew I couldn't tolerate a day in the heat, soaking up the exorbidant sun so she got a cool cabana in the shade that sprayed water from little misters along the roof edge.
The day was wonderful, but the rest and the mist and the rays didn't bring back my legs... I went home and EVERYONE kept suggesting I get a cane. HA! Can you believe that? A 25 year old woman with a cane?! Yeah right. "Wall walking" became my new championing sport; holding my hands out and touching the wall as I walked with my eyes always down. The smallest disparity in the lay of the land would mess me right up mind you.... This was crap! This was definitely not what I signed up for; remember the initial neurologist that diagnosed me said "one attack within your whole life"... I was beginning to think that he didn't know what he was talking about, Robin Williams look-a-like or not.