Life can be chaotic and unpredictable, so why not control what we can while we can? This sentiment is why we created yearly goals aka our bucket list. Instead of letting life pass us by, let’s live with intention. Let’s live a life that we can look back on when we’re old with our aged bodies and know that we got as much out of it as we possibly could.
And now onto the unpredictability that life has bestowed upon us…
I have MS.
At this stage, it has affected me minimally and it was caught early. My doctor is positive about my prognosis, and tells me that she won’t be losing sleep over my case, which is fantastic, but ultimately, I have no idea how something like this will impact my body.
Of course I’m scared about the worst-case scenario. I’m grateful that my body, though stupidly attacking itself, alerted me in such an obvious way that I had to see a doctor about it a year ago. I’m thankful that I have health insurance because my medicine is $6,014.00/month without insurance.
I’ve been pretty positive about everything (how can I not given how lucky I am?), but my mind does wander to the morbid side sometimes, like the yard sale I’ll have to host to sell the high heels that I will no longer be able to wear because my legs have become too weak to walk in them (I’m a 7.5 if you’re interested buying shoes at my depressing, future yard sale).
And it has seemingly been everywhere I turn — in news articles that have nothing to do with MS, but somehow reference it, to friends’ Facebook posts on how they’re raising money for their friends’ brother’s mother’s aunt who died from MS complications. We recently turned the TV on and Trainwreck was playing. Just in time for the part where her dad dies. GREAT. [It was on again recently and from the other room I heard Kris fast forwarding through these scenes. I called him out on it. It’s sweet that he’s trying to protect me from scary reminders.]
But the worst offense of all, 12 hours after hearing “you have MS,” we walked to our coffee shop and lo and behold, a MS fundraiser walk was taking place. Seriously, calm your nuts, MS. I get it. I have it.
Here I am enjoying the gallows humor of it all:
My outlook on life is “shit happens.” Bad shit happens to good people. Bad shit happens to bad people. So you won’t hear “WHYYY MMEEEEEEEEEEE?” coming out of my mouth. I’m independent, hard-headed, and set out to challenge and prove to myself that I can do whatever the fuck I want, so potentially being limited by this disease will frustrate me, but what can I do, but try to make the best of the situation and appreciate every healthy moment I have? I know I could have it much worse.
I am so happy that I’ve pushed myself in many physical ways because of our bucket list. I’ve never been a physically-fit person, but I’ve challenged my body (and will continue to) because you never know when it will be taken away.
This blog allows us to document our accomplishments, both significant and insignificant. I really like that. I love celebrating life and I will continue to do so. Even when, but especially because, shit happens.
-Lyssa
Addendum
If you see me in person and wonder why my face is painfully-splotchy, easily flushed, and generally red, it’s my medicine’s fault. It also causes the shits, so I can confirm that, not just metaphorically, but literally, shit happens.
Your outlook is such an inspiration. Shit definitely does happen, and I suppose that makes living your bucket list even more meaningful. I do hope you keep up with your adventures, I enjoy reading them!!!
BTW: I am a size 7.5 🙂
Thank you, Annette! You get first dibs on my shoes! I’m still working on learning how to skateboard, so I plan to keep on keeping on as long as this bod allows.
You got this! I got diagnosed when I was 20 and now I’m 35 and still going strong ( and I still wear high heels ) the redness does get annoying at times but you will get use to it. I joke about it with people now. I also refuse to let it prevent me from doing anything 🙂 stay strong. If you ever have any questions just message me.
Thanks, Samantha! I admire your attitude.
Lyssa! I’m sorry to hear this news, but it sounds as though your attitude is strong (as expected), and prognosis is as good as can be. Big hugs on this new journey.
Thanks, Cathy! Hey, we might be in Cleveland sometime this year (NOT FOR RNC). Would love to meet up!