March 2005
“Joyce, I’m becoming unstable. Let me call you once I get to my parents.”
My grandmother lives about three blocks away from my parents. Taking this walk was nothing new to me. I had done in several times but, this particular day it became a struggle. The struggle became a reality in those short three and a half blocks. I don’t know if it was because I called Joyce to keep me company while I walked the short distance or if it was the stress of feeling helpless or just being tired from constantly battling my mind, tongue, and thoughts from accepting those words to be true. Everything was still new.
Everything meant my new walk, my mood was always up and down, and I was always sleepy. I had only one suicidal thought the first month of my diagnosis. That first month was full of emotions and depressing thoughts and considerations. I’d imagine jumping off a flight of stairs after the DJ disappeared and my weight increasing from the steroids only lowered my self-esteem. I tried to create normalcy in this new life and visited my parents every Friday. My mom would offer to pick me up but, I refused because I didn’t want to aid this disease by robbing me of my ability to walk. I read somewhere that exercising and building your strength helped.
It was April, four months after being diagnosed. On a scale of 1-10, one being bad and 10 being back to pre-MS. During those months my days ranged from a 5-7. I hadn’t felt like a 10 since last summer in Kirksville.
“Wanna get some Lou’s tonight?”
When it came to food, my best friend loved two things chicken and pizza. Lou Malnati's is my favorite Chicago style pizza, but the scale disgusted me 262 and pizza would only make it worse.
“Naw, how about Chili’s?” As I turned the corner on 77th and Bennett, I stumbled and my legs began to feel heavy and trip over each other as I walked. I only had about 50 or so more steps to walk but my feet became harder and harder to lift. As I walked, I felt as if I could feel all 262 pounds in my calves and feet. As I saw my parents' house get closer, I grabbed the gate on the right side of my body.
“Joyce,” I interrupted her, “I’m not stable. Imma call you back once I get to the house.”
“Ok, I’ll be praying.”
“Thanks…”
I hung up the phone and leaned against a metal gate in front of a house. I tried to catch my breath. My heart was racing, and I saw my parents' apartment. Probably less than 50 feet away. Sweat formed on my face and I felt my t-shirt under my windbreaker begin to stick to my chest and arms. It was becoming harder and harder to walk straight and my balance was getting worse. Cars would slow down and watch me as I held on to the closest things in front of me. I had to keep moving, well-tried to keep moving. I was trying my best not to look too suspicious or draw negative attention to my struggle. I wanted so badly to just crawl but, that wasn’t a realistic reality. Eventually, I made it o the corner and called my mom.
“Mommy,” I said breathing heavily, “I’m not stable. I’m across the street from 78th and Bennett. Can you open the front door?”
“Yes!!” I heard the urgency in her voice.
Seconds later, I saw her looking out the window, and I wanted her to come out and help me. Saw me as a two-year-old again learning to walk and how she would encourage me to take one more step to make it to her extended arms.
“By His stripes, I am healed,” repeated out my mouth.
I stumbled over my feet a few times There were only two apartments that separated me from the corner to my parent’s front door. What usually took less than a minute to do took me four or five minutes to get to the front door. It took me five or more minutes to get to the front door. I don’t know how I found the strength to lift my legs up the four stairs on the porch but, I did it. My mom buzzed me in before I rang the bell. I was tired and felt weak and wobbly. Too weak to insert my key in the door. I made it in the hall outside my parent’s door and just sat on the stairs and thanked God.
“You ok?” my mom asked after opening the door minutes after she buzzed me in. I was sitting on the stairs in my bra when she opened it.
“Yeah,” by now my jacket and t-shirt were off and laying on my lap, “I just need to cool off and reset.”
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