Being a manager is not as fun as being a stylist... I mean don't get me wrong, there are aspects that I really enjoyed and I was so grateful to have the position at all. BUT, I really didn't like counting every single thing in the salon and spa for inventory EVERY month and the accounting jobs; I mean I am a detail oriented person, but that was just mean!
It turns out though that I did really enjoy setting up interview questions, training and development initiatives and plans, retention strategies and policy and procedures manuals even... I really liked EVERY aspect of the human resources tasks I got to perform. I knew going back to school was going to be something that needed to happen, so here was my new calling, my new destiny!
I enrolled part-time to start. I knew that Mom and Dad couldn't afford for me to be a "professional" student. They gave as much as they could, funding my little sister's University education at the same time. My job stayed the way it was and I added school in the evenings a couple times a week to start. At first that wasn't bad... I think the adrenaline of being back at school and learning just kept me operating at top speed. Then I crashed. And crashing never looks pretty, no matter how you try to dress it up.
My fatigue became crippling, I felt tired all the time. I would get crazy headaches and my left hand was numb so working on my computer became increasingly challenging.
I talked to my employer once again and explained I was going to have to cut back hours some more. We decided to start to look for another manager and I would pull back and just work the front desk a few times a week and all day on the weekends. Looking back I can't believe how lucky I got to have such an understanding boss for all of those years and transitions in this life.
The more I did school, the more I wanted to complete it as quickly as possible. I hated being a drain on my parents. More than that, I hated being in limbo. I didn't want my illness to define me and I certainly didn't identify with my illness. My neurologist appointments were getting harder and harder for me to take. The doctor I had liked was now long gone, he went to a small island in Scotland to pursue his MS research. I now had a new neuro with the bedside manner of a rock.
He enrolled me in a program where I'd go to see Occupational Therapist's and Psychologist's and (good times) Urologist's. This of course really helped the fatigue because now on top of working AND going to school; I was fitting in numerous doctors appointments into my schedule as well. But I thought, "hey, at least it's something none drug related that I can do."
The O.T. was really helpful and totally relatable for me because she was only a few years older than myself at the time. The Psychologist wasn't as smart as me, so I thought my way in and out of our appointments all the time and really didn't receive very much insight at that point in time. The Urologist was humbling... I cried like a baby the day I found out that I couldn't drain my bladder on my own accord anymore. I couldn't believe I was learning how to use catheters and strategies about bathroom breaks and frequency all the time.
The peeing thing hit me hard. I mean no one even had to teach you how to pee... You just did it. You knew how to do it before you ever even took a breath! And here I was, working at it. Finding out it wasn't as easy as I'd been lead to believe. It was too much to take in- this one, MS, was below the belt!!! Pun, totally intended!
