All I Want For Christmas


With apologies to Donald Yetter Gardner

All I want for Christmas

Is my two good legs

My two good legs

Just my two good legs

Gee, if I could only have my two good legs

Then I could say goodbye to needles


It seems so long since I could say

May I have the pleasure of this dance

Gosh, o gee

How happy I’d be

To walk without annoyance


All I want for Christmas is my two good legs

My two good legs

Just my two good legs

Gee, if I could only have my two good legs

Then I would be a happy camper


Back when I had two good legs

There wasn’t anything I couldn’t try

But now when I exert myself

It makes me want to cry


All I want for Christmas is my two good legs

My two good legs

Just my two good legs

Gee, if only could only my two good legs

My spine would have all of its myelin

Then I’d could embrace every season

Then I’d feel blessed beyond all reason


MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE. I hope Santa treats you well, that you are surrounded by love, and bathed in happiness.













I’ve never been a fan of winter. Having lived in New England for most of my life, I do enjoy having four distinct seasons, and I love the sight of the snow falling outdoors, provided I don’t have to commute in it. White Christmases are wonderful, but those have been a hit or miss proposition over the years. Before MS entered my world, I enjoyed frolicking in the snow, engaging in snowball fights, sledding down a steep hill, and even removing snow from the driveway and sidewalks, at least some of the time. I don’t mind the chilly temperatures. but could do without the bitter cold and wind. The truth is, once the Super Bowl is over, I’m ready for spring, but February and March seem to last forever.

Getting around during the winter could be cumbersome at times, but it was never unmanageable.  Over the last several years however, clearing portions of the driveway and sidewalks have become progressively more difficult. So has been getting around on a snowy terrain. Nonetheless, there wasn’t anything winter could throw at me that I couldn’t handle, until this year, that is. There is an old foe that I have succumbed to, whom I no longer bother trying to challenge. That foe is ice.

Ice has become the bane of my winter existence. We rarely get ice storms, but the snow invariably leaves frozen stretches on my driveway and sidewalks regardless of how well they are plowed or cleared. Plus, the snow often turns into slush, which freezes easily.  Worst of all, the snow on or surrounding these surfaces melt during the day and re-freeze at night, leaving a flat, frozen, and often invisible slick of black ice that can easily take me down. And if there is a melt followed by a long stretch of subfreezing weather, the ice can linger for days, but I digress.

We received our first snowfall of the year last week. It wasn’t a large accumulation, and the snow was easy to remove. The next day was clear, the sun was bright and a lot of the snow melted. When the sun set, the temps dipped below freezing and the standing water froze solid. I ventured outside the following morning to move something in the back yard, and had to cross the driveway to do it. On my way there, I mistakenly stepped on one of those frozen slicks and stopped dead in my tracks.

I used to be able to simply shuffle my feet along an icy surface to get where I needed to go, but the deteriorating balance has made that more difficult. What little strength or control I have in the bad leg is rendered moot by a slick surface, and the good leg, which handles most of the body weight, tends to slide more on icy surfaces because of the weight it handles. If that slides out from under me, I would lose complete control and the results would be both comical and ugly.

Unfortunately, I was on a slanted surface, and I soon learned that negotiating icy surfaces that are even remotely slanted is impossible. Gravity takes over, my body starts leaning, and my feet started sliding. Even my cane was rendered useless because rubber-tipped canes have no traction on ice.

I was literally stranded on what looked like a four by four section of driveway, and I was completely helpless and vulnerable. I couldn’t crawl, because that meant I would have to move my feet to get onto my knees, but if I did that, they could slide out from under me. I couldn’t gingerly slide my feet either because the bad leg was on the downhill slide of the slant and kept moving in that direction. I could see myself doing a split on the ice, tearing my groin and hamstrings in the process, howling in pain.

After the initial panic subsided, I saw that all I had to do was reach over, plant the cane into a small pile snow that was within arm’s reach at the edge of the driveway, and pull myself off across the remaining two or three feet without having to lift my feet off the ground. Once I was on solid, snow covered ground, I waddled a few feet down the snowy lawn until I reached a flatter, unfrozen section to the driveway, and made my way back into the house.

With ice, every step is an disaster waiting to happen. It snowed again yesterday and left a thin film on the driveway and sidewalk. When I went to get the mail, I swear I heard the theme from the movie Jaws playing in my head, except the slick sidewalk was lurking  instead of a Great White Shark. It didn’t bite me this time because the snow that covered parts of the walk did not have an icy foundation, and my feet could easily grip the snowy surface.

Public parking lots and sidewalks are even worse. At least I can to a certain extent control how well my home base is maintained when it comes to snow and ice removal, but all bets are off in pubic areas. At least the handicap parking areas are close to most entrances, provided some yahoo hasn’t decided to take the last open spot to park in because there wasn’t an open space nearby.

I once toyed with the idea of  moving to a warmer climate when my working days are over, but as much as I dislike being cold and dealing with the snow, heat and MS are not a good match, so I don’t see myself leaving New England permanently. Maybe finding a more temperate place to live from January through March is the next best thing.

Either that, or I need invest in a lot of driveway salt. Maybe wearing a helmet, shoulder, elbow and knee pads when I venture outside would be a good idea too!

The Hardest Part of My Day


I love sliding into bed at night. By that time, my body is tired and stiff from having to carry itself on one good leg throughout the day. My hip is sore, my lower back is barking, my foot is dragging terribly because I can barely lift it, and my knee won’t bend without a significant effort. In fact, it is ramrod straight, and almost feels like it is hyper-extended, although it doesn’t hurt.

When I slide under those soft, warm covers,  I can feel my body exhale and melt into the mattress. It feels like I’m weightless, and this poor body, that has trudged and wobbled around all day, finally has a chance to lay prone and release the pressure that has coiled inside it.

The flip side of this is that I have to drag my ass out of its warm cocoon the following morning, which is often the most difficult accomplishment of the day.

First of all, it’s a struggle moving in bed, other than the periodic leg twitching. Turning onto my side is an endeavor, particularly when I turn to my left. The only way I can accomplish that is to reach across the mattress, grab onto its side with my right hand, and literally pull myself onto my side. Turning to my right is easier, but instead of grabbing the mattress, I have to tuck my right arm behind my back and flop over onto my side, like a fish out of water. I therefore have a tendency to sleep on my back all the time, which has forced me to sleep with a pillow under my knees to prevent my back from getting sorer and stiffer, which further complicates the turning process.

So by the time my alarm alerts me to the new day, my body is fully rested, but it also feels like it’s one hundred years old. You see, I can’t just sit upright from a prone position anymore, and as I have already mentioned, turning on my side isn’t as easy as it sounds. Getting out of the left side of the bed is almost impossible, so after I turn to my right, I literally have to shimmy my lower half to the side of the bed, push myself upright, then gently grab the bad leg and place it on the floor. The good leg easily follows.  That’s the simple part.

My leg is the weakest first thing in the morning, so I feel like a newborn colt when I stand for the first time every day. They are also unsteady and, like the colt, it looks as if I am learning to stand and walk for the first time. Compound that with poor balance, which is also at its worst first thing in the morning, and I’m sure I look like a staggering drunk as I make my way to the bathroom. I literally have my right hand on the wall from the time I get out of bed until I reach the bathroom, and there have been many times where that short distance from the bed to the wall almost ended in failure. It feels like gravity is doing it’s best to suck me down onto the floor, but it hasn’t happened yet.

I am a lot steadier when the morning bathroom routine is completed, but the limb is still very weak. The next mountain to climb is getting dressed. Getting my clothes on above the waist is a piece of cake, but not so much with the lower half. Underwear used to be an issue until I learned that the easiest way to get them on was to simply grab the bad leg by the ankle and place it where it needs to go. Same with the socks, but there are two complicating factors in play.

The first is that I am not flexible at all, and I don’t think any amount of stretching, which is hard to do in the first place, will change that. If you have ever strained your lower back, you how difficult it is to put any article of clothing on your legs or feet. That’s how it is for me, minus the searing back pain. Some mornings, the body is so stiff that it feels like the act of getting my leg high enough, and bending my body forward enough to get my socks on, will result in a hernia, a rupture, or a complete blowout of the lower back. Maybe all three.

Then there is the balance issue. Most people think that balance is an issue when one is standing, but it can also be a problem when you’re sitting. When I’m getting dressed, if my butt is to too close to the edge of the bed, and I’m leaning forward a little too far, gravity will take over and I’ll crumple to the floor. Falling is embarrassing enough when you’re upright, but falling when you are already sitting down would be the ultimate humiliation, even if nobody is there to see it. It hasn’t happened yet, but I have come close several times. Mostly when my mind is somewhere else.

So now the chore is almost complete. I am fully dressed and ready to take on the new day, but before that can occur, I have to take my first trip down the stairs. This is the most perilous thing I do all day, not only because of the unsteadiness, but also because I have my socks on, which tends to make the wooden stairs feel very slippery. Plus, it is dark, so I make sure to count every one of those fourteen steps until I reach the ground floor. One hand is firmly on the rail and the other is sliding along the wall when I make that trek, which helps not only maintain my balance, but will keep me upright if the foot slips or the knee doesn’t bend and I lurch forward unexpectedly. As you can tell, I fear falling down those stairs. I don’t think it will ever happen, but I believe that if I were to ever suffer a life-threatening MS related mishap, falling down those stairs would be the most likely scenario.

Once I’m downstairs, all I have to do is get my stuff together for the ride into work, followed by the final act of putting my shoes on and tying them, which often takes two or three attempts. You see, the AFO brace I wear is in that shoe.  I have to hold the leg by the calf and aim my toes into the shoe. Once they are in, I can lean forward, hold the back of the shoe with my fingers and slide the rest of my foot in, before I tie the strings. I’m sure this process looks very odd to someone who witnesses it for the first time.

Now I’m golden. The stiffness that existed twenty minutes earlier is gone, and my strength and balance is starting to come back, although it will take another hour or so to reach maximum capacity. I’m ready for the day and all that comes with it.

By day’s end, the body is once again tired, ragged and spent. I’m off my feet for most of the evening after dinner and the evening chores are done. My rocker recliner calls and welcomes me as I watch television with my wife. Once it is time to turn in, the legs protest having to carry my 190 plus pounds once again. It actually feels like a thousand pounds, but I shuffle up those stairs one last time to start the bedtime routine, then slide under those blessed covers and let the tension melt away. It has become my favorite time of the day.

I wish I could say the same thing about the next morning, but one has to look at the bright side. At least there is a next morning.