It’s not easy (or cheap) being green (or good)

`I try to do right as much as possible. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe there are some things that are “right” and some things that are “wrong”. That puts me out of favor with popular culture, but I’ll keep dancing with the dinosaur, as Steven Curtis Chapman sings.

One thing that’s right is reducing our footprint on this world of diminishing resources. So I recycle (only after refusing, reducing, and reusing, of course). That can be a hassle and it can cost a bit more to buy recyclable products*, but it’s worth it for the sake of my children and grandchildren. That’s another belief that has fallen out of favor: Living for the benefit of future generations. It flies in face of the Veruca Salt culture in which we live.

It’s also not cheap to eat well. All the MS diet advice we get involves consuming organics and specially processed (or unprocessed) foods that are more expensive and harder to come by than the run-of-the-mill offerings at your local grocery store. So you race around to Whole Foods (not called “Whole Paycheck” for nothing), Trader Joe’s, and farmer’s markets to get the Good Stuff. Just one more way MS is an expensive disease.

Yup, doing right for yourself or others eats up more money, time, and energy. But I wouldn’t want it any other way. Doing good should involve sacrifice. (Ask Jesus. He knows first hand.) One of my favorite stories in the Bible is a brief episode about King David buying some land from a guy so he can make an offering to God on it. In a blatant attempt to suck up to the powers-that-be, the land owner tells David he’ll give it to him for free. David wants no part of the deal. Instead of going for the freebie (as most of us would), he responds:

No, but I will buy it from you for a price. I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God that cost me nothing.

David gets it. If he gives something that costs him nothing, he’s giving nothing. It’s not the thought that counts, it’s the sacrifice.

Do good because it’s good, not because it’s easy.

*  An excellent case in point is the ubiquitous Styrofoam. It’s almost impossible to avoid and even more difficult to recycle. And it’s forever. Why are we still making/using this crap? And what am I supposed to do with it?

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Bag the bags

[The worst thing a blog can become is a vehicle for venting. Nobody wants that. Occasionally, though, I have to let loose and channel my inner Andy Rooney. Sorry.]

What’s the deal with all the bags at grocery and other retail stores? Yesterday I bought a quart of milk in a plastic bottle at a convenience store. (Wicked convenient. I can walk there.) The guy reaches for a bag to put it in.

Let’s be clear: These bottles have handles. The handles are for carrying. Why on earth would I need to put it in a bag? Some bags don’t have their own handles, so they’re actually counterproductive. But even a bag with a handle is superfluous. I’ll buy a bag of chips and they want to put it in a bag. THE CHIPS ARE ALREADY IN A BAG!!! I don’t even want to think what would happen if I bought a bag. They’d want to put it in a bag.

Get a grip.

I’ll be in line at the grocery store. (It should come as no surprise that I have my own reusable bags.) The person in front of me has six items and the bagger puts them in four different bags! How can that possibly be justified??? Even one item per bag isn’t unusual.

Like the woman in front of me who bought a single roll of Scotch Tape and insisted she needed a bag to put it in. She had a handbag the size of the Hindenburg. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see her stuff the tape, bag and all, into the blimp. Oh, the humanity.

So our landfills get choked with plastic grocery bags, which never (as in, never) break down. Do any of those people with the bags have children or grandchildren? What kind of world are you leaving them?

It’s time to bag the bags.

There. I feel better now. Even though the problem still exists. Blame Andy Rooney.

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Top Ten things to do while in the MRI tube

If you have MS, you’ve spent more than your fair share of time buried in an MRI machine. It’s a little known fact that the MRI was invented by some obscure cleric during the Inquisition to extract confessions from suspected heretics. It wasn’t until the late 20th century that scientists looking for new papers to publish in scientific journals discovered they could use it to look at the human brain and pretend they knew what they were seeing. (Word is that it’s still used as a torture device by some nonprofit hospitals to compel deadbeat patients to pay their overdue bills.)

Being more than mildly prone to claustrophobia, the prospect of my first MRI was about as welcome as a colonoscopy prep. For my maiden voyage in the tube, I begged for some kind of assistance. I was thinking, “Hit me upside the head with a 7-iron. I’d rather sleep through the whole thing and wake up with a nasty headache than endure a preview of the grave.” But they gave me a Prozac and that did the trick.

Turns out it wasn’t as bad as I’d dreaded. Since that initial episode, a cloth across my eyes and a vivid imagination has sufficed to get me through the trial. The only problem left was what to do with that hour or two lying there in the dark, immobile. Perhaps you have the same problem. If so, I present you with my top ten list of things to do while lying prone in an MRI:

  1. Think of all the people you’d like to cram into an MRI tube, possibly concurrently.
  2. Play head games with the MRI operator. For example, keep squeezing the little ball he gave you and, when he comes running, tell him you didn’t squeeze it. Guess how many times you’ll have to do it before he stops coming to check on you. Another fun trick: Keep yelling, “Get them out of here! Get them out of here!”
  3. Try to remember all the side effects of the DMD you’re taking.
  5. Come up with meaningful ways to spell those sounds. (q.v. my attempts above)
  6. Bring a friend for backgammon.
  7. Pray. You’ll never find a more convenient or appropriate time for it.
  8. Imagine you’re lying on a beach (or other relaxing, desirable location) that just happens to have a sonic background of BZZAAAHHBZZAAAHHBZZAAAHH.
  9. Count your blessings. Think of reasons to be grateful. This has the added benefit of being therapeutic so maybe you won’t have to spend so much time in the MRI.
  10. Write a top ten list.

You can thank me later. Or add your own ideas in a comment.

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The Voice of God

Have you ever heard some spiritual superstar talk about how he or she “heard from God”? My hackles tend to rise immediately upon hearing such talk, invariably in the form of something like, “God told me I should do this”. Worse, “God told me you should do this.”

I don’t know about you, but I’m not that conversant with God that He’s regularly telling me what to do, never mind what others should be doing. I keep up my side of the conversation and look for His response any way and anywhere I can: through friends, His word, nature, and circumstances, for instance. Have you ever directly heard that “still small voice” in your head? I haven’t.

Except once.

Yes, I think I heard the silent voice of God in my head. I’m going to share it here in hopes that it will be of some help and encouragement to my friends with MS.

I was going through a particularly dark time in my life, which was causing me to be cast down in my spirit. (This was not related to MS as far as I know but, as with everything MS, you never know for sure.) Anyway, I was praying, looking for some help to get out of the doldrums, when suddenly, out of “nowhere”, words simply appeared in my head as if they were beamed down from the mother ship or, maybe more appropriately, the Father Ship. The words were:

Philippians 2:4

Huh? Where did that come from? I knew it was a Bible reference but I had no idea what it said. (This was a long time ago; since then that verse has been indelibly etched on my heart.) Being a dutiful Christian and, more honestly, being desperate for help, I looked it up. Here’s what it says:

Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.

At first glance, it appeared to have nothing to do with my depressive state. Maybe God put the wrong Zip code on that message and it was meant for someone else. It could be something intended for another circumstance and it arrived too late or too early to be applicable to my current condition.

Or maybe I was imagining it all.

On further consideration, I realized it couldn’t have been more appropriate. I’d been wallowing in my own set of woes, ignoring the needs of others God had put in my path. That’s a perfect recipe for the depression and despair I was experiencing. Getting outside of oneself is the solution to so much that mentally and emotionally ails us.

As the estimable but long-lamented psychologist, Dr. David Rintell has pointed out many times, we can build our resilience by “looking to the interests of others.” Specifically, he says:

Give! Giving to others, in addition to the benefits to those we help, benefits the helper in a number of ways.  Research has shown that giving to others is an effective antidepressant, and it’s a great way to build new social connections.

For those of us with MS, the temptation to pull back inside ourselves, to hide and obsess over our conditions, to look only to our own interests—in short, to be selfish—is great. But it’s also dangerous. Avoid that temptation at all costs.

God told me you should. 🙂

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I have Multiple Sclerosis.

Not surprising. I’m writing a blog partially dedicated to the topic.

The one thing we know for sure about MS is that no one knows anything for sure about MS. (Thus, the reason I call it the Sergeant Schultz disease.) My condition is quite good, compared to many of my friends. In fact, my physical condition has prompted two different people in one week to ask me: “Are you sure you have MS?”

My neurologist, MRI’s, and body agree that I do. That’s good enough for me.

Why have I been spared so many of the disease’s ravages while others have not? Again, who knows? Not being on any of the MS meds, I chalk it up to the grace of God and my PB&J therapy. Like any other MS treatment, it’s not guaranteed to work for everyone, but I swear by it. I used to swear at my meds.

Other people have asked me a most puzzling question:

“Are you in remission?”

I don’t like that question because I don’t think there’s a good answer, kind of like that old sick joke, asking a guy if he’s stopped beating his wife. Any answer gets me in trouble. The question is based on the incorrect assumption that MS has a state of potentially permanent remission. It doesn’t.

This is understandable because of the unfortunate terminology adopted to describe the different “types” of MS. One of those labels, Relapsing-remitting MS (RRMS), seems to imply a permanent state of remission, but it’s different than, say, cancer. When a cancer patient says she’s in remission, that’s usually cause for rejoicing. Not so much with MS. The remitting state is usually just a rest stop between relapses, attacks, exacerbations, setbacks… choose your favorite term. That sword is always hanging over our heads, no matter what stage we’re at. (Admittedly, cancer patients in remission suffer the same uncertainty.) I might be doing well today, but I could be flat on my back tomorrow. It’s happened before.

There used to be a label called “Benign MS”, a class of the disease characterized by a remission-like lack of progression or relapses over a long period. That led to people thinking they didn’t need to buy any MS drugs and we couldn’t have that, could we? Yet, there are many people out there who have had a single minor MS attack that led to no further attacks or progression over the next decades. Are they in “remission”?

Let’s face it: It’s a crap shoot whether you’re benign, RRMS, or progressive. Drugs may or may not work; not taking drugs may or may not work.

As I said, I don’t like the question. And I don’t like the disease. Neither has good answers.

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“A Song in the Storm” is here!

From my other blog, to save some keystrokes…

Scribbling in the Sand

As threatened, er, I mean, promised, my new book is finally available.

The story follows a young woman living in Lucca, Italy, in 1924. Gifted with a magnificent singing voice, she is on the verge of fulfilling her dream of becoming a professional singer. Her dream is crushed when her father tells her she must go to America to marry a man she’s never met. Her odyssey takes her from an ocean crossing, through Ellis Island, to Boston’s North End, with a lot of twists and surprises along the way.

While the story is fictional, it is inspired by the true experience of my grandmother, who was from Italy and lived through a similar situation. It also realistically represents the difficult road traveled by Italian immigrants in the early 20th century, a reality not much different from other ethnic groups before and since.

Click on any of the following…

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The Square Wheelers ride again!

If you’re reading this blog, you have at least a passing interest in Multiple Sclerosis. (Unless you’re one of those mercenaries who are simply “expanding your network”.) And if you have an interest in MS, you have far more than a passing interest in putting an end to it. (If not, you know nothing about MS.) If you want to end MS, you might be interested in contributing to the cause of ending it while supporting those who suffer from it.

That’s where I come in. 🙂

I’m riding in Bike MS: Ride the Vineyard in a couple of weeks. If you want to support me and thus support the fight against MS, please visit my donation page. And feel free to pass this request along to anyone you know who wants to be part of the solution.

That’s it, short and sweet. As Bartles and Jaymes once said, “Thank you for your support.

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