It’s been one year since the big storm at the cabin.
I still have no memory of the day but I’ve heard plenty of stories. I feel like I should know what happened but the pieces of the puzzle just won’t fit together. I don’t know if that’s a blessing or not but it’s what I’m left with.
I know everyone that was involved has had their own reactions. Of course the view of trees gone and damage all around the lake is hard to take. I’ve been around the cabin for ten years and have grown attached. Others have memories going back many more years with much stronger feelings toward more than just the structures and foliage. I have to believe that if those walls could talk, the stories would be amazing. A year later, the grass is greener, the sun is brighter, and a new pole barn has been built. The cabin may have taken a hit but things are already starting to bounce back and everyone is just creating a new normal.
When I reflect on a year ago, instead of stories about running or huge waves rolling in, I think of how my life changed just as quickly as the wind blew through. That tree hitting me did more than leave stripes on my back. I now can say that I have a brain doctor, am a pro at giving myself an injection every day, and notice every single tick, itch, or twitch that comes along. Because they looked at my brain, they noticed the holes. I survived more than one MRI and a spinal tap. Ultimately, after the brain scan with past and present holes, the spinal tap results, and a previous optic nerve issue, I officially have MS.
It’s hard to actually say, much less believe and process that I truly have MS. When I think of the disease, I think of sick people. Before this, I didn’t really know anything about what it meant to have MS. I pictured wheel chairs and oxygen tubes. Now I know that so many more people deal with this without the world even knowing.
I also know that this is something that plays with your head and could potentially make me go crazy. Everyone keeps talking about “events.” Hopefully the medicine will prevent me from having one in the future but in reality they could come at any time. The thing is that there isn’t a good definition of what an “event” is. I basically understand that it will last at least 24 hours and that I’ll know when it happens. I feel like I’m pregnant for the first time again when people told me I’d just know when the real contractions came. Of course I figured it out when they came (my water breaking helped me figure it out too) but the waiting and wondering before I really knew was mind boggling. It’s the same now, every twitch, head ache, sleeping appendage; etc makes me wonder and worry.
I may be fine for the rest of my life. I may just have the welts from the shots and a few holes in my brain. There is also the chance that down the road I will be that sick person in the wheel chair with the oxygen flowing. I guess Grandpa Stub knew what he was doing when he left me his fancy walker. Part of me says bring it on, I’m ready. Part of me wants to go back to that day a year ago and just stay put so I wouldn’t have known what could be coming. In reality, I’m here learning to make my own personal new normal, whatever that may be.
P.S. Even though I don’t remember the storm, somehow I don’t like storms anymore- go figure