<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172</id><updated>2012-02-16T13:01:21.562-05:00</updated><category term='The Symptoms'/><category term='The Treatment'/><category term='MS Society'/><category term='The Diagnosis'/><category term='In the Beginning'/><category term='Day by Day'/><category term='Just Me Being Me'/><category term='Things To Hate About MS'/><title type='text'>The MS Chronicles</title><subtitle type='html'>I am a wife, a lover, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend. I am a photographer, an artist, a writer, a singer of songs, a dancer, a dreamer and a laugher. I am the face of MS.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>64</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-7502886410583876062</id><published>2008-05-01T09:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:48.958-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MS Society'/><title type='text'>CROCS CARES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.crocs.com/cares/#section02"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/SBnUz3unL_I/AAAAAAAABqQ/ku_FXmH4W4w/s320/croc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195417632746450930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Learn more about How you can get a spiffy new pair of &lt;a href="http://www.crocs.com/cares/#section02"&gt;CROCS&lt;/a&gt; and help the fight against MS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-7502886410583876062?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7502886410583876062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=7502886410583876062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7502886410583876062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7502886410583876062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2008/05/crocs-cares.html' title='CROCS CARES'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/SBnUz3unL_I/AAAAAAAABqQ/ku_FXmH4W4w/s72-c/croc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-2053691058221238244</id><published>2008-04-07T12:35:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T08:43:54.577-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: arial;"&gt;It isn't about waiting for the storm to pass; It's about learning to Dance in the Rain!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I came across this quote the other day and it stuck with me like a black-capped chickadee stuck on a Hot Shot No-Pest Strip! (A story for another day. Thankfully, they now put a protective grid over those sticky yellow strips.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Isn't that all life is about... Learning to dance in the rain, making lemonade out of lemons? No one's life is perfect. Everyone has their own No-Pest Strips to avoid. We choose how we deal. Some days, I dance in the rain. Other days, I drown in the puddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Lately I have been, at very least, splashing face down in the puddle and I really don't like it. It is so out of character for me. I am a &lt;em&gt;laugher&lt;/em&gt;, not a whiner. I still get angry sometimes that certain things for me will never be the same. And as if having MS wasn't enough, I am now 50 so you can all imagine what stage of life I am fast approaching. What really makes me mad about it all, is that I am not even going to be able to do this midlife thing gracefully. As soon as I get the nerve to call the doctor, I am going to have to have surgery to remove what little bit of hormones I still have squirting out. Then it's all baritone and facial hair for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Just when you want to wallow and be mad at the world for your personal aggravation, you get an email from a dear old friend whose husband is terminally ill, or a phone call from a new "old friend" who tells you about a young mother of two, a four year old and one year old who is paralyzed from a car accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Then all I can say is, you better get your fluffy butt up, grab your umbrella and dance in the dang rain!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-2053691058221238244?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2053691058221238244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=2053691058221238244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2053691058221238244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2053691058221238244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2008/04/it-isnt-about-waiting-for-storm-to-pass.html' title=''/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-2546111042463566552</id><published>2007-12-06T08:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:49.148-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>I Feel Things...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R1gE1kCtMSI/AAAAAAAABHg/ovfN-JUCUng/s1600-h/IMG_4854a+(Medium).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140864292898025762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R1gE1kCtMSI/AAAAAAAABHg/ovfN-JUCUng/s400/IMG_4854a+(Medium).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There are days when I don't feel great, for whatever reason...but I make a conscientious choice not to acknowledge it. I choose to say "I am fine", even when I feel less than fine... Even when I feel like I will break if I have to spend one more sleepless night wondering where this will all eventually take me. I say I am fine when I feel like an elephant is sitting on my head. I say I am fine, even when I have to struggle to make my left leg keep up with my right. I say I am fine, even as my face is tingling with numbness. I say I am fine, even when I get that weird choking sort of feeling in my throat. I say I am fine because I don't want to be THAT person who wallows. I don't want to be the person who no one wants to talk to because they will once again have to hear how lousy they feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There are things. Things I feel, but never say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I work very hard to stay in an emotionally happy place. I can't change this. It just is. I wish it weren't, but it is.&lt;em&gt; I wish&lt;/em&gt; I could get excited about seeing my family who lives 600 miles away without wondering if they will be scrutinizing me, looking for tell-tell signs.&lt;em&gt; I wish&lt;/em&gt; I could go to a family reunion without people saying "You look good" which really means "you look good for someone who was diagnosed with a lifelong disease".&lt;em&gt; I wish&lt;/em&gt; I could spend an entire day playing with my art on the computer, bringing a faerie or an angel to life without physically paying dearly for sitting there. There are a million other things &lt;em&gt;I wish&lt;/em&gt;, that I won't say out loud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have MS. I have no choice about it and the only choice I have in regards to its progression, is to put my faith in the drug company. I don't have the option of simply making lifestyle choices that could possibly have a huge impact on my disease. I can only hope and pray that it doesn't have its brutal way with me. I have no real control over it. I just have to hope the Avonex keeps it at bay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I feel things...Things I NEVER say out loud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(Even though diet isn't a major factor for MS, a good diet and exercise certainly won't hurt!)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-2546111042463566552?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2546111042463566552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=2546111042463566552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2546111042463566552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2546111042463566552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/12/there-are-days-when-i-dont-feel-great.html' title='I Feel Things...'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R1gE1kCtMSI/AAAAAAAABHg/ovfN-JUCUng/s72-c/IMG_4854a+(Medium).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-7698241964933284962</id><published>2007-12-05T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T08:47:21.282-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Stranger Than Fiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am one very weird science experiment! I have been taking Avonex shots every week since April and overall my side effects have been minimal. On Monday night I took my shot as usual. I often skip the Tylenol/ibuprofen step since I seem to have very little side effects from the medication. After about an hour, I noticed that I was feeling slightly achy so I took a couple ibuprofen. I have found that as odd as it may seem, Extra Strength Tylenol makes my stomach hurt. I know, I know...Tylenol is supposed to be easier on your stomach than ibuprofen. Someone forgot to tell my stomach!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Within a few hours of taking my shot, I began having chills. I have never had chills from the Avonex. Not even once! The makers of Avonex state that when you take the medication over a long period of time, the side effects lessen. Maybe as the amazing opposite girl, mine are going to increase. Who knows? I am just one strange biological specimen! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A note to other MS patients who may be taking Avonex...&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;After several months of injecting that huge needle into my leg, I read in the paperwork from my pharmacy that it would be easier to inject if I iced the spot first. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well DUH!!!!!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I have spoken to a multitude of people from the drug company. They have nurses and case workers and all kinds of people who contact you. I initially injected at Cleveland Clinic, surrounded by health professionals. Why, oh WHY did not one of those people give me that information? I had to change pharmacies (insurance company junk) to get this little hint that certainly DOES make injecting easier. You would think that would be one of the first things on their To Do List...Inform these people who have just been told they have an incurable disease and will have to be poking a long needle into their leg once a week for the rest of their lives, that there is a way to make it a little easier, a little less painful and certainly less stressful. Just ice the injection site to numb it BEFORE you shoot!!!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Recently someone from the drug company called to check in with me and I gave them this information. Low and behold, they already KNEW this and even have gel packs that they will send out to you for FREE for you to use on your injection site. AGAIN...WHY did no one mention this? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, if you have to take Avonex shots, just call Biogen Idec and tell them you want one of their nifty little gel packs to ice your injection site. Then ask them why no one told you about this from day one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My take on it is, that if they offer the gel pack, they are saying...Hey, this is going to hurt! Well, it does hurt and if you can make it a little easier on us, then DO IT!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Something else you may want to know...You can buy a smaller needle to inject with. It is 20% smaller than the one that is packaged with the Avonex. Whatever...Why not just GIVE them to us to begin with. The darn medicine is $1,856.00 a month! Can they not throw in a smaller needle for that amount of money?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;By the way...it is snowing in Ohio on this beautiful December morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-7698241964933284962?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7698241964933284962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=7698241964933284962' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7698241964933284962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7698241964933284962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/12/stranger-than-fiction.html' title='Stranger Than Fiction'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-5531304082747987569</id><published>2007-12-01T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:49.290-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>"Twinkle-Twinkle FLASH"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R1GF00CtMBI/AAAAAAAABE0/_jKvFGq5DBQ/s1600-R/IMG_7452+copy+(Large).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139035792176132114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R1GF00CtMBI/AAAAAAAABE0/AukJxVHyoSI/s400/IMG_7452+copy+(Large).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;(Once again, Blogger will not let me format this post so forgive the weird spacing and squished together paragraphs)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the &lt;a href="http://caris-photo-journal.blogspot.com/2006/12/happy-tree.html"&gt;Happy Tree &lt;/a&gt;is back up again, making me smile through another holiday season. Last year, my Happy Tree was responsible for helping me make it through the horrible days after my first IV Steroid treatment. (See posts from November/December 2006) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[I want to add a note here...I have noticed that some people stumble upon my blog while searching for info on IV Steroids for MS. Please know that my experience with steroids is not the norm. I tend to be "opposite girl" and have different reactions to drugs than most people have. Steroids usually make people bounce off the walls...They make me sleep. Don't let my experience with IV Steroids make you afraid. Everyone is different and they may just give you back your super powers!]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;What a difference a year makes.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;It took me days last year just to assemble the tree. I would hang a branch and lie down, then hang another branch. This year, I assembled it in one short afternoon and had it completely decorated by the next, in spite of the &lt;a href="http://caris-photo-journal.blogspot.com/2007/11/crazy-happy-tree.html"&gt;lighting fiasco&lt;/a&gt;. I am actually feeling better right now than I have felt since last November. I still have issues...balance, weird mush head and some weird unusual pains, but overall, life is good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Yesterday, I decided that since it was forty degrees, I should try to get the front porch decorated with lights and garland. Little did I know that it may have been forty degrees out but the wind was flying at 40 miles per hour! &lt;a href="http://caris-photo-journal.blogspot.com/2007/11/crazy-happy-tree.html"&gt;This time, I remembered to first plug in the lights to check them&lt;/a&gt;. What I didn't do, was leave them on long enough to see if they were steady on or flashing lights. So true to form, I hung the icicle lights on the porch rail, attached the garland and just as the sun was setting, I plugged them into the porch outlet only to discover that ONE STINKING STRING OF LIGHTS WERE TWINKLE-TWINKLE FLASH LIGHTS!!!! All I can say is there is NO WAY I am going to redo it! No way! I will just look at it as one more thing to make me smile. Every time I look out and see that little string of lights twinkling, I will pretend they are laughing and dancing with happiness. They are happy that for one more year, in spite of the MS, I am able to climb ladders and stools to hang Christmas lights. That is something to be happy about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Yesterday I was telling my sister about them...The way they mock me by flashing. And I started to laugh as I thought about the neighbors, the people in our area who know me and my perfectionism with all things visual. They will see those lights and think...Bless Cari's heart. The MS must really be hard on her. Did you see those pitiful lights she has on her front porch this year? They don't realize that my lights are laughing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-5531304082747987569?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5531304082747987569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=5531304082747987569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5531304082747987569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5531304082747987569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/12/twinkle-twinkle-flash.html' title='&quot;Twinkle-Twinkle FLASH&quot;'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R1GF00CtMBI/AAAAAAAABE0/AukJxVHyoSI/s72-c/IMG_7452+copy+(Large).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-5256079508476277239</id><published>2007-11-21T09:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:49.478-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>What I am Thankful For...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R0RLHTftpOI/AAAAAAAAAy0/aBUJNAWeX0g/s1600-h/nov+morn+(Large).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135312063973663970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R0RLHTftpOI/AAAAAAAAAy0/aBUJNAWeX0g/s320/nov+morn+(Large).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As the holiday season approaches, I have a huge smile on my face. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and more than ever before, I have much to be thankful for. It has now been over a year since my diagnosis, and generally speaking, I have felt better over the past couple of months than I have felt since last November's devastating steroid event. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My precious hubby offered for our family to have Thanksgiving dinner out this year, but I opted to cook. I decided that for as long as I am able, or at least have the desire, I will still cook our Thanksgiving dinner. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, on this day before Thanksgiving, as I bustle about the kitchen, I do it with more joy than ever before. I have two brilliant healthy children who are blossoming into absolutely amazing adults. I have an adoring husband who shows his love for me in a million ways each and every day. I have siblings who are my best friends forever. I have a beautiful home (OK, realistically, part of it is beautiful...Thanks Jackie...and part of it looks like crap, but I will get to the bad parts and eventually it will all be beautiful again) and I have a wonderful garden filled with things I planted with my own hands. I have furniture that I painted with my own hands and curtains I sewed! I have an identity and joy through my photography and art. What more could I possibly want or need. Yep, Life is good!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-5256079508476277239?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5256079508476277239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=5256079508476277239' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5256079508476277239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5256079508476277239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-i-am-thankful-for.html' title='What I am Thankful For...'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R0RLHTftpOI/AAAAAAAAAy0/aBUJNAWeX0g/s72-c/nov+morn+(Large).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-1441074492250021387</id><published>2007-11-19T19:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:49.539-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>Woman Stuff</title><content type='html'>So, if you are a man and you are squeamish about woman stuff, you might want to hit the back button and back your way out of this post right now, before I put images in your head that you can never ever erase. You have been warned!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something humiliating about going to the gyne. I dread it far worse than going to the dentist, even if I am having a tooth filled! I mean, seriously... What kind of man chooses a career that has them looking at crotches all day long every day? I mean, even people who work in chocolate factories get tired of chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I visited my new gyne today. He was the doctor I went to for some other woman stuff back in February. He's a nice enough guy, what I saw of him. After all, he is pretty much hidden behind that all-concealing thin white paper sheet they give us to help us maintain a tiny bit of dignity. His office staff is MUCH nicer than the office staff at my former gyne's office. I fired the old gyne for not taking my comment about an issue I was having seriously enough. Then, when I called his office to ask a question, his "I've got way too much power" nurse scolded me for trying to follow up on my issues. At the time, I was still very fragile emotionally from all the new MS stuff and the last thing I needed was to listen to the IGWTMP nurse get sassy with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was sitting in the waiting room at the OB/GYN's office, I realized a couple of things. First, someone needs to order a subscription of MORE magazine for his office. I really don't need to see Child magazine or Pregnancy magazine or even Family magazine. I am way past all that stuff. I also realized that some people just don't NEED to be parents! I don't really even feel like getting into that. Just trust me. Sometimes, birth control shouldn't be left up to choice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK ladies, we all KNOW what happens at the gyne ...stirrups ...tongs ...glaring lights. I've got an image for you...I'm lying there in the most graceful of positions, trying to maintain a minuscule amount of dignity while my legs are flying high, when what does my gyne decide to talk about? Turkey! Yes ladies, turkey. Honestly, I kept hoping it was an inside joke between the gyne and his nurse, you know like "Hey, watch this! I am going to have this patient in the "position" and then get her to talk about turkey." And if just the talk of turkey wasn't enough, he asked me if I was going to "stuff" my turkey!!!! I wanted to laugh hysterically at the absurdity. I am lying there on the table, pretty much like a trussed turkey and he wants to talk stuffing!!! If you are not howling at this moment, you either A. Aren't a woman, or B. Have NO sense of humor! It was like something from Saturday Night Live!!! I shudder to think what we would have talked about were it Christmas!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134923755980432514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R0Lp8zftpII/AAAAAAAAAyE/FRF-4ImzVp8/s200/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-1441074492250021387?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1441074492250021387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=1441074492250021387' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/1441074492250021387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/1441074492250021387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/11/woman-stuff.html' title='Woman Stuff'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/R0Lp8zftpII/AAAAAAAAAyE/FRF-4ImzVp8/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-251400779778871281</id><published>2007-11-16T13:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T10:40:22.230-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>Same Hair Since 1976</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As I watch the slideshow of my life, I am forced to hysterically realize that I have had the same hairstyle give or take an inch or two, since 1976. LOL (Well, other than those horribly permed 80s, which by the way made my hair look much darker than it has actually ever been.) I am a no muss/no fuss kind of gal and well, no matter how someone cuts my hair, when I turn it upside down and run my fingers through it to blow dry it, when I turn right-side up, it is still going to look the same. That is the extent of how much time I am likely to spend on my hair so...it will probably look this same way when I am 60 and 70.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Some things never change...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-251400779778871281?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/251400779778871281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=251400779778871281' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/251400779778871281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/251400779778871281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/11/same-hair-since-1976.html' title='Same Hair Since 1976'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-1375101657964284827</id><published>2007-11-14T09:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T20:48:45.752-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Back From Cleveland or I Still Hate That Darn Math Test!</title><content type='html'>The first thing I want to say is, the kindness we are shown by the people who are associated with the Cleveland Clinic &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt; Center for MS is what keeps me going back. From the Research Coordinator to the nurses and doctors...Everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make my way through this situation with humor. It is what keeps me going most days. I make jokes about the holes in my brain and occasionally walking like a drunk woman. I play the "UH HUH, Let the Crippled Girl Do It" card with my two dear sisters as they are standing in line at the check out counter reading a magazine, while I (the crippled girl) am unloading the shopping cart onto the conveyor belt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said to the Dancing-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Neuro&lt;/span&gt; when she commented on me being in good spirits..."It is what it is". No amount of whining is going to make it go away. Of course, I am also fully aware that my emotions could change in a split second. I am also aware that my health could change in a split second. So for today, I choose to be happy that I can still type, I can still use a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Rotozip&lt;/span&gt; power tool without killing anyone and I can still drive a car on my own. I look at each and every day when I can get up and breathe, walk, laugh, climb the stairs and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ugghh&lt;/span&gt;, even cook dinner, as a gift. It could all be taken away in a heartbeat. Of course, that is true of any one's life. You could get up one day and be hit by a pumpkin falling off of an overpass and your life and the lives of those around you could be forever changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being told you have a disease makes you feel like you have an expiration date. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;HMMMM&lt;/span&gt;, even milk usually lasts longer than the expiration date. I plan to laugh in the face of MS and do it my way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the visit to Cleveland...&lt;br /&gt;The Dancing-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Neuro&lt;/span&gt; got married. It was obvious by the blinding sparkle on her finger. It is a good thing she put on rubber gloves or my eyes would have just followed the pretty sparkle during the entire exam. I wish for her and her groom all the love and joy that my sweet hubby and I have shared for the past 27 years. It will help, if she shares her pumpkin bread with him, but that's another story altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The setup was a bit different this time and I feel it went more smoothly. There was a new Research Coordinator (I liked her) and a new nurse who was very sweet (even though she seemed to think that paying me a lousy $20.00 was going to compensate for the stress of taking that math test. I think not! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;). Both newbies had a great sense of humor which is totally a prerequisite for me to like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still had to walk up and down the hall like a rat in a maze. (Who can possibly walk normally when you know someone is watching you?) I had to follow waving fingers, poke myself in the nose and try to tell the difference between my own internal vibration (a gift from the MS) and the vibration of a tuning fork pressed against my bare foot. That one was a little tough. I constantly have a low hum that runs under my surface. It is soft and low enough these days that most of the time, I can almost ignore it, unless someone has a vibrating tuning fork stuck against my foot. Then it is a little hard to ignore. I was once again reminded how bad my eyesight has become and tried to bribe my way out of the hot seat on that one. I really do need to make an appointment with a real eye doctor and stop wearing cheater glasses from Sam's Club! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I played the peg-board game, which couldn't really hold my attention...pegs in, oh yeah...pegs out. Then I took the dreaded math test and I don't think I did terribly this time. I think I may have sort of mentally cheated, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;. I figure, if my lesion-laced brain is smart enough to figure out a way to get results, then I am doing it! Hint to anyone else who has to take this test. Keep your eyes closed and just listen. I have difficulty with staying focused on something if there is any outside stimulation. Closing my eyes so that my brain wasn't getting any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;input&lt;/span&gt; from anything but the verbal cues from the audio tape made it easier to stay focused. I share that tip, because seriously...I feel like what better way to make an MS patient feel sorry for themselves than to remind us that we just aren't quite what we used to be upstairs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt; Seriously...Can't the great minds come up with a better way to measure our brain function than to make us feel totally STUPID? Here, take this math test and here is the Prozac that you are going to need to get you through the depression of realizing that you can't hold on to a number in your brain for more than a split second!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You didn't really think I would give away my mental cheating skills did you? I mean, I like you guys, but let's be honest...I want to be the winner. So..OK...There isn't really a winner, but as much as I sympathize with you guys, I am not giving away my super powers. I have had to work way too hard to get them back to be willing to give them away. I shared the closing your eyes tip. For today...That is all you get)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-1375101657964284827?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1375101657964284827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=1375101657964284827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/1375101657964284827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/1375101657964284827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/11/back-from-cleveland-or-i-still-hate.html' title='Back From Cleveland or I Still Hate That Darn Math Test!'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-6630060028250161247</id><published>2007-11-11T16:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T09:22:12.062-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Time to Play Lab Rat Again</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow, I go for my six month evaluation for the MS drug &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;biomarker&lt;/span&gt; study. I am involved in two research study programs that basically involve blood draws and an MRI. I'm not really thrilled about playing lab rat again. I do it, because I hope with all my heart that the research they gather from we lab rats helps to find a way to help future MS patients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't really mind it if I didn't have to take the stupid math test. I'm not looking forward to that frustration. Feeling stupid is simply not my favorite activity. For a person who has always been relatively good at math, this math memory test is HELL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will have to stay overnight at the Cleveland Clinic so they can rush in at 7:00 AM to draw blood, then immediately run off to the lab to play with it. The last time I was there for the study, a French-speaking female came in at 7:00 AM to run off with my blood. I couldn't understand a word she said. My still-southern ears just don't do French, especially at 7:00 AM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish for me that my MRI shows no new lesions!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-6630060028250161247?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6630060028250161247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=6630060028250161247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6630060028250161247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6630060028250161247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/11/time-to-play-lab-rat-again.html' title='Time to Play Lab Rat Again'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-252798461386720475</id><published>2007-06-25T08:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T09:03:20.851-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'>No News is Good News</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm sorry it has been so long since my last update. I have been keeping busy with my photography and since there has really been nothing new to report, I haven't added a new post. I am still taking the Avonex shots once a week. I still have my MS weird head and numb face if I sit too long. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I went back to the hematologist and my blood count was normal for the second time in a row, so he released me again. That's about it! Nothing else new, which can be a good thing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-252798461386720475?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/252798461386720475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=252798461386720475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/252798461386720475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/252798461386720475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/06/no-news-is-good-news.html' title='No News is Good News'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-5720767394583618670</id><published>2007-05-10T21:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T22:00:10.793-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Say it Ain't So...</title><content type='html'>Just when you think you have things figured out, something weird happens. So as you all know, I went to the blood sucker's office yesterday fully expecting "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt;, high white blood count &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt;, don't know why, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt;, more tests &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go figure. My white blood count was not only better, it was normal. Will anyone EVER figure me out? I have been on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt; for 4 weeks now. In all reality, if anything the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt; should have raised my white blood count. I'm tired of trying to figure me out and I'm ME!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(We still made an appointment for three weeks and I STILL had to pay him $50.00. Some things never change.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-5720767394583618670?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5720767394583618670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=5720767394583618670' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5720767394583618670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5720767394583618670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/05/say-it-aint-so.html' title='Say it Ain&apos;t So...'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-5523665810063797289</id><published>2007-05-09T02:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:49.769-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>MS Ain't For Sissies!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RkF3m6Uex9I/AAAAAAAAAWw/I2scfsXBBMs/s1600-h/IMG_1431.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062458966515042258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RkF3m6Uex9I/AAAAAAAAAWw/I2scfsXBBMs/s400/IMG_1431.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yes, I did! I used the AIN'T word. Sometimes, it is necessary! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For those of you who have never seen the hypodermic needle that an MS patient has to use to give themselves a shot...This one's for you. The larger of the two needles is the MS drug needle. The smaller needle is an insulin needle. The insulin-sized needle was what I was expecting. The larger needle is what I got! I have to poke that thing into the muscle of my thigh. It is no fun to give them to myself, so I just try to get it over with as fast as possible. From set up to finish it probably takes five minutes. There is no room for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; procrastination. It just has to be done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am still having no obvious side effects from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt; shots. I haven't even had the slight headache after the last two shots. I was a bit more active today (I had the shot last night) than I have been most weeks on the day after the shot, so I think I did notice that I became tired a little more than usual today (or it could have just been the heat. It was fairly warm in Ohio today and I was out in it a good bit.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nonetheless, I still feel very fortunate that I am not having the terrible flu symptoms that most MS patients get from the medication.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tomorrow I have an appointment with the hematologist again. My white blood count will be up. We won't know why. We will make another appointment in three more weeks. I will pay him $50.00 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-5523665810063797289?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5523665810063797289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=5523665810063797289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5523665810063797289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5523665810063797289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/05/ms-aint-for-sissies.html' title='MS Ain&apos;t For Sissies!'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RkF3m6Uex9I/AAAAAAAAAWw/I2scfsXBBMs/s72-c/IMG_1431.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-5824195479114214058</id><published>2007-04-26T19:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:49.918-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Is it Live or is it Avonex?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lab Rat Coordinator #1 called today to have me answer a few questions about my first Avonex experience. I had to rate the Avonex related misery on a scale of 0-10, 0 being no problem and 10 being the worst imaginable. Soon after she gave me the run down on the rating system, she had to briefly take another call. When she returned, she immediately began to ask me to rate from 0-10 certain side effects of the Avonex. I most often gave her zeros with an occasional 1 or 2 thrown in, the 2 being the rating for exhaustion, which I honestly think was as much about my husband and I spending the weekend in NY state celebrating our anniversary as it was about the Avonex, but I had to let them have at least 1 side effect. (We spent the weekend at a ski resort in Findley Lake, NY, returned home on Sunday night and then left for the clinic Monday morning. I had a fair amount of blood siphoned out of me over a 15 hour period and didn't sleep very well, so you decide. Was it the Avonex or was it just life that made me tired? After this week's injection I had no apparent exhaustion at all. )&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As I began to answer her rating questions, she started to laugh. I said, you think I don't understand the rating scale don't you? But I do. She laughed again and said that I had told her I was "opposite lady" and that honestly, she hadn't really believed me. She believes me now! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I told her to give the dancing neuro a message for me..."I told you so!"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RjFC86UexpI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/XFlmXkxNyek/s1600-h/party0009.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057897470728521362" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RjFC86UexpI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/XFlmXkxNyek/s400/party0009.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-5824195479114214058?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5824195479114214058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=5824195479114214058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5824195479114214058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5824195479114214058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/is-it-live-or-is-it-avonex.html' title='Is it Live or is it Avonex?'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RjFC86UexpI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/XFlmXkxNyek/s72-c/party0009.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-7966261632010141785</id><published>2007-04-25T12:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T21:14:24.301-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Number Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;On Monday night I gave myself my 2nd shot of Avonex. Throughout the day I made an effort not to think about it so that I didn't get myself stressed out.. At 7:00 I took my Extra Strength Tylenol (We are supposed to take it a couple of hours before the shot). At 9:00 I headed upstairs, placed the shot and the "extras" (gauze pad, alcohol wipe etc) on a towel, popped on the needle and just DID it! No hesitation, no thinking about it, I just did it. It again, wasn't actually so bad. I did squint my eyes a bit, like I do when I see road kill on the highway, just to keep from seeing the actual needle puncture my skin. Hey, whatever works! It was all over in a matter of minutes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I again had no significant reaction to the drug. I had a mild headache throughout most of the following day, but again, nothing too bad. I am feeling very fortunate since so many people have such a hard time with the medicine.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-7966261632010141785?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7966261632010141785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=7966261632010141785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7966261632010141785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7966261632010141785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/number-two.html' title='Number Two'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-2200395211319582445</id><published>2007-04-24T10:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:49.947-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>The Waiting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After the MRI, we were off on a shuttle ride to the main hospital. You know you are at a big hospital when you have to ride a bus from one section to another. It can't be just any bus. There are colors that coordinate routes to different buildings at the hospital. If bigger is better, this one should rank right up at the top. (By the way, it is ranked among the top 3 hospitals in the United States, which says to me that it is ranked third, because if it were ranked first or second, wouldn't it be in its best interest to advertise itself as being the top ranked hospital in the US or in the top two ranked hospitals in the US.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dancing-neuro had given me my walking papers while I was at the hospital, so after dropping my bag of groceries and reading material on the hospital bed, (which by the way was another one of those bad bad inflatable beds that try to rearrange you all night long because it has a notion that you are uncomfortable) hubby and I went to the International something or another place at the hospital where they have all the food. You're still thinking about my bag of groceries aren't you? In the paperwork for the research study it indicated that they would be serving dinner to me from their "pantry". That could translate to many different things, but all I could think of was that they were going to bring me a lunch meat sandwich with mayo on it which I would never ever eat. I packed a few snacks, just in case. I also figured I wouldn't likely sleep much, so I brought reading material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dining at the International something or another (maybe Food Court?) we went back to my room, which by the way was the cleanest hospital room I have ever been in. It was almost time for my first shot of the MS medication, Avonex. My nurse/instructor bordered on being a stand up comedian which truly worked out well for me. She basically said, if I didn't get the shot in my leg, she would jab it in for me. LOL I had it in my hand all ready to go and just needed to take a deep breath before inserting it. I told her to give me a minute to get relaxed. It isn't everyday you stab yourself in the leg with a super-sized needle. She stepped back and started talking to my hubby and by the time she looked up again, I was pretty much done. Although the needle looks huge, it wasn't really so bad. Once you puncture the skin, it just feels like sliding a knife in butter. That probably isn't an analogy that everyone will appreciate, but truly, once you get it through the skin it is no big deal. The only thing that bothers me is that little "crwk" sound and feel as you puncture the skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had me take Extra Strength Tylenol a couple of hours before the first shot to prepare for the side effects that may or may not (translate to likely will) happen. The side effects should begin about two hours after you have your shot and may last for up to 24 hours. I took my shot at 7:30. At 9:30 I started waiting to feel something bad. At 10:30 I was still waiting. By 11:00 I was sleepy and just couldn't wait any longer. I took another dose of ES Tylenol, just in case the side effects crept up on me later, then I fell asleep. Several hours later I woke up and just lay there quietly in the dark accessing the situation. Aches? No..Fever? Don't think so...Chills? Nope...I did have a mild headache, but nothing to fuss over. I swear I woke up all night long just waiting for the ax to drop and it never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When morning rolled around, they came in to draw blood again and as soon as that was over I was allowed to leave. The nurse had a bit of trouble siphoning out my blood &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/memoirs-of-lab-rat.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(See Memoirs of a Lab Rat)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; and while she was trying to coax a trickle of blood out of my arm, a doctor came in and started to speak to me. She, I think, was French. I seriously couldn't understand anything she said except for "Thank you for participating in the study" or research or whatever she called it. I at least got the thank you part. She grabbed the tubes of blood that eventually dribbled out and was off to the lab to play. (She was a very nice doctor and it isn't her fault that my ears don't hear French.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby came to retrieve me. We walked back to the hotel, had breakfast and headed home. I was a bit fatigued throughout the day and the headache remained for most of the day but that was it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little side note......&lt;br /&gt;I told my hubby the night before I went to the hospital, that I had a feeling I wasn't going to get the bad side effects. He agreed. We just had a feeling and were trying hard to be optimistic. When I was being accessed by the dancing-neuro, I told her that I had made up my mind that it wasn't going to make me sick. She gave me her best serious look and let me know that yes, I was likely to get the side effects. That most everyone does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is...Always the Rebel! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/Ri4wp4F7mZI/AAAAAAAAATo/9CDN2M7EW2g/s1600-h/fighting0087.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another note...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to someone at Biogen Idec today. (The drug company) She suggested I use my magical powers to cure something or solve the problem of global warming. LOL Alrighty then....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-2200395211319582445?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2200395211319582445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=2200395211319582445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2200395211319582445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2200395211319582445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/waiting.html' title='The Waiting'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-4830732256922168348</id><published>2007-04-19T00:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T07:25:09.920-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Magnets and Needles and Xanax, Oh My!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Part II &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, I managed to make it through the IV fiasco with my sanity intact. (See previous post, &lt;a href="http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/memoirs-of-lab-rat.html"&gt;Memoirs of a Lab Rat&lt;/a&gt;) Although, while having a needle dug into my arm, Lab Rat Coordinator #1 and Lab Rat Coordinator #2 realized that they did not have me check off boxes on the consent form giving consent for them to save my blood for future research. So, while a nurse is asking me to clench and unclench my fist in hopes of pumping up a third vein, I am asked to read and give my approval for my blood to be frozen. (Cari on ice!) I asked them nonchalantly if they realized they were asking a person with MS to do two entirely separate things at one time. I'm sorry, but my lesion-laced brain can only take so much. I had already played their little games (run though their maze) and my brain was still tired from the memory math game. I'm telling you...Whoever decided to give that test to a bunch of people with holes in their brain is the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;DEVIL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the blood letting, I was examined by a neurologist who shall remain nameless, which is only fair since I have to remain nameless. (Afterall, I am just a lab rat.) One hint, she used to wear a tutu. She had to evaluate me as if I were not her patient. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;P'shaw&lt;/span&gt;! I'm sorry, but I took cream cheese pound cake to her on my previous visit. Let her just try and forget me! She did a bunch of tests on me, all of them more pleasant than the stupid make-me-feel-like-a-loser math game. I had to walk for her too, five laps up and down the long corridor of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt; Center. I had already taken a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Xanax&lt;/span&gt; to prepare for the MRI before the walk, so if she had waited a little longer to have me walk, it may have been a lot more fun to watch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Next on the agenda was an MRI. This time, the MRI was only of my brain (no spine) so it lasted about 25 minutes. The MRI guy (I don't really know what his title is), encouraged me to wear headphones and listen to music to help block out the clanging noise of the magnets. I opted out of that. There is far too much Georgia rhythm in this girl's blood and I could just see me start shaking my groove &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;thang&lt;/span&gt; in the MRI coffin and mess up the whole darn thing. I thought it safer to just listen to the magnets so I would only have to do it once. I'm thinking, at only 25 minutes, I could probably do it the next time without the help of pharmaceuticals. But then again, why would I want to? I mean really, if I can ride that X- train for 25 minutes, why not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Next Stop, The Hospital&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-4830732256922168348?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4830732256922168348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=4830732256922168348' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/4830732256922168348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/4830732256922168348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/magnets-and-needles-and-xanax-oh-my.html' title='Magnets and Needles and Xanax, Oh My!'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-8375041764172214538</id><published>2007-04-17T18:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:50.287-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Memoirs of a Lab Rat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RiVbYsONT_I/AAAAAAAAAR4/FUw1gueGDi0/s1600-h/IMG_01492+(Medium).JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054546636538990578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RiVbYsONT_I/AAAAAAAAAR4/FUw1gueGDi0/s320/IMG_01492+(Medium).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Yesterday was the big day. I began my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt; injections. I am here to tell about it, so I think it safe to say, it went pretty well. Since my last blog entry, I agreed to be in another MS research program. The new one is about MS and proteins or something or another that really makes no sense to me, so I won't even try to explain it. All I know is that it required me to have a bit more blood drawn while I was playing lab rat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I am sporting not one, but two blown out veins in my arm. My veins simply do not like the invasion of an IV. If all you want to do is draw blood, my veins cooperate just fine. But try and stick an IV in them and they start to play hide &amp;amp; seek. We eventually had success, only to have it shattered by 8:10. Since they were going to draw more blood for the research studies, they decided to leave an IV in to make drawing the blood less difficult. Translate...They SERIOUSLY thought they were saving me pain by putting in an IV for the blood draws because I was going to have blood drawn around 5:00, another at 7:20 another at 8:10 and one more the following morning at 7:30. If you add them up, that is four sticks of the needle to draw blood. I told them from the beginning that I didn't mind needles for drawing blood, but they insisted it would be much easier with the IV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easier for whom? Let's do the math! If you count all the sticks above, that is four sticks of a needle to draw blood. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, let's see...It took three stick attempts and some serious digging around under the skin for them to get the IV in. Then, they still had to take it out last night after the last blood draw because it was malfunctioning. This morning, it took two more sticks to get a good vein going for the blood draw because they had already completely used up my right arm trying to make an IV work. That makes FIVE STICKS. So, if they had just taken the blood with a needle as needed, I would have had four punctures. But because they were trying to make it easier, I got stuck FIVE times (six if you count jabbing a needle into my own leg, but we won't count that one since it is not about the blood letting.) Hey you guys, thanks for looking out for me! Next time, listen to me. And to think, they gave &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MEEEE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; a math test!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TO BE CONTINUED....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-8375041764172214538?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8375041764172214538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=8375041764172214538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8375041764172214538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8375041764172214538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/memoirs-of-lab-rat.html' title='Memoirs of a Lab Rat'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RiVbYsONT_I/AAAAAAAAAR4/FUw1gueGDi0/s72-c/IMG_01492+(Medium).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-7223129114975397238</id><published>2007-04-12T07:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:50.456-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>The Day Approaches</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Finally, after seven months I am going to start treatment for MS. On Monday, I will return to the Mellen Center in Cleveland to begin treatment. Hopefully, this time I will go to the Mellen Center without being a big cry baby. MS is what it is, and no amount of whining about it or getting sad from seeing others in wheelchairs is ever going to make it go away. I can still walk, I can still talk, so I just need to quit whining and be thankful for what I am still able to do. It's not cancer. I didn't lose a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a little bit of fear at starting the medication. The last time I took medication for MS, I spent the next three months just trying to get back on my feet. Coincidence or not, my mind still remembers having to lie on my side for two weeks, so in my tiny non-medical lesion-laced brain, there is a connection. This is an entirely different medication. I talked about it in my last blog entry. It is called Avonex. Its job is to help reduce the chances of me getting new lesions and to hopefully reduce the number of flareups that I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flu symptoms are the most common side effect of the drug and they may last for up to 24 hours after receiving the shot, which by the way I wasn't all that worried about until yesterday when I watched the DVD from the drug company. That sucker is big and I have to poke it into the muscle of my own leg once a week. I was expecting a tiny little needle like my husband uses for his insulin. Needles, shots, IVs, blood draws...None of that has ever been a very big deal to me. I just pick a point and focus and it is over. However, it is going to be hard to pick a point and focus when I have to focus on shooting myself in the leg. I feel the tension rising! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/Rh5CrsONT9I/AAAAAAAAARo/JaBH0addMPw/s1600-h/moon.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052549150328836050" style="WIDTH: 19px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 19px" height="38" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/Rh5CrsONT9I/AAAAAAAAARo/JaBH0addMPw/s320/moon.gif" width="47" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(For some reason, that sentence, each and every time I read it, makes me start to sing CCR's song Bad Moon Rising in my head. I see a bad moon a rising, I see trouble all the way. I hope it's not an omen!) I am curious to see how the flu symptom side effects (fever, chills, aches, headache) will effect me. I seldom get a fever. Even when I am seriously sick, a fever seldom accompanies my illness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be a part of the bio marker study for Avonex. I will have to complete a couple of tests, putting pegs in holes, walking (and just for the record, you never walk the way you &lt;em&gt;really walk&lt;/em&gt; when you know someone is watching you. OK, that was a hard sentence to put together, but you know what I mean, right?) and I have to listen to a CD, all the while adding up some numbers. My ability to hold onto things in my slightly holey brain may cause me a little problem there. If I can see it, I do OK. However, trying to hold onto some number as it slips and slides around in my less-than-perfect brain might be a problem. I guess that is the whole point of the test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sort of wish they wouldn't call them tests. Maybe they should call them evaluations or anything besides TESTS. The 11th grader in me who was always good with numbers yet struggled in trig &lt;em&gt;(bad bad teacher)&lt;/em&gt; comes sashaying out in her Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, swinging her Farrah Fawcett hair and asking "What need will I ever have for this in the REAL world".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will also have a neuro exam (again a word that really means TEST) from the dancing neurologist (who I am determined to show that I am not really a basket case about to take a dive off a bridge over raging waters), and an MRI. We all know by now how I feel about MRIs. Just bring on the drugs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, wish me luck. I'll update as soon as it is behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[On a side note...I have spoken to many people associated with the Avonex drug over the last few days and they have all been wonderfully kind, knowledgeable and helpful. Score 1 for Avonex!]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-7223129114975397238?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7223129114975397238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=7223129114975397238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7223129114975397238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7223129114975397238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/day-approaches.html' title='The Day Approaches'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/Rh5CrsONT9I/AAAAAAAAARo/JaBH0addMPw/s72-c/moon.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-244981048194591283</id><published>2007-04-10T08:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T08:26:48.569-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>$50.00</title><content type='html'>Today I have another appointment with the hematologist. It is a follow up visit. He wants to check my white blood count to be sure that the white count is, at very least, not increasing. Each and every time I walk through his doors, it costs me $50.00. That is more painful than the lousy blood sucker his office has employed who can't seem to draw blood without administering pain. I am no baby when it comes to having blood drawn. It is no big deal to me. I have had so much blood sucked out of me since September, that I am a pro. Nowhere, not the local hospital, not Cleveland Clinic, not the family doctor's office has anyone hurt me as much as the blood sucker at his office. Irony? I think so. This is a HEMATOLOGIST 'S office. They specialize in BLOOD! For goodness sake, hire a decent blood sucker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hematologist has given the OK for me to finally begin the MS medication &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt;. Ah, a double -edged sword. I want to start the medication. I certainly don't want the MS to get any worse if I can help prevent it. However, the medicine itself is a bad boy and will likely give me flu-like symptoms during the first 24 hours after I take my shot each week. Hopefully, with each week I take it, my body will become more accustomed to it and the flu symptoms will decrease. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt; is an interferon which can cause depression, so if any of you who read this think I sound like I'm ready to jump off a bridge, give me the heads up before I jump so that I can spend another chunk of money every month to buy an antidepressant. I quite frankly, think the two should be packaged together with one drug bill for the month. Here you go Ms. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Spano&lt;/span&gt;. Here is your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt; and here is your bridge-diving prevention medicine. Makes sense to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, maybe all this medicine buying will help me lose weight. How will I have money for groceries after buying all those drugs? Being sick is expensive!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-244981048194591283?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/244981048194591283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=244981048194591283' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/244981048194591283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/244981048194591283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/5000.html' title='$50.00'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-8763771763243016072</id><published>2007-03-22T10:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T12:04:39.277-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Diagnosis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>I'm Not Dying Today...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So, yesterday I had another appointment with the infamous hematologist. During my previous visit he wrote a prescription for a few scary blood tests that had to be performed at a hospital. Yesterday I received the results of those tests. Two of the tests were leukemia tests. The results for one of the Leukemia tests was back and thankfully it was negative. Although the results for the second test for leukemia wasn't actually back, (the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Philadelphia&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Chromosome&lt;/span&gt; test) the doctor said that based on the other results, he didn't anticipate there being a problem with it. This is all excellent news. For three weeks I have had to walk around knowing I was being tested for Leukemia. Not fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is however, still no explanation for my elevated white blood cell count. The doctor suggested a CAT Scan on my abdomen and pelvis to eliminate the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt; of a problem there. I swear, I am just their science project! I think I will talk to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;gyne&lt;/span&gt; and see what he thinks of that! Why shouldn't he be in on the fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt; Center at Cleveland Clinic called yesterday regarding the research program for the MS drug, &lt;a href="http://www.avonex.com/msavProject/avonex.portal?gclid=CODT_ILaiIsCFQGPWAodLRKlKA"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. They are still trying to get everything lined up, but it shouldn't be too long now before I begin the MS medication. Even if they decide they don't want me in the research program because of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;WBC&lt;/span&gt; issues, I should still start the medication relatively soon. If I am chosen to participate in the research program I will have to stay overnight at Cleveland Clinic the first time I take the medication so they can monitor me closely and do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;blood work&lt;/span&gt; 12 hours after the injection. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Avonex&lt;/span&gt; is only available as a weekly injection at this time. REALLY LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to give everyone an update. Sorry it isn't very clever. Not feeling extremely clever today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-8763771763243016072?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8763771763243016072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=8763771763243016072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8763771763243016072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8763771763243016072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-not-dying-today.html' title='I&apos;m Not Dying Today...'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-6932424197979821590</id><published>2007-03-09T19:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:50.796-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>The Dancing Neurologist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RfQw1GAzK4I/AAAAAAAAALo/hz0sd-pKiEc/s1600-h/people22.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040707571639593858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RfQw1GAzK4I/AAAAAAAAALo/hz0sd-pKiEc/s200/people22.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;OK, I confess. This entry isn't really about my dancing neurologist. I just like the title and since it is my blog, I'm allowed to use any title I want and I want to use The Dancing Neurologist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had my second appointment at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Center for MS at Cleveland Clinic. We awoke to a fresh layer of snow and as a result decided to get an early start to Cleveland. We stopped for breakfast at the Waffle House, which in itself was almost worth the trip. Can you say scattered, smothered, covered and capped? If you don't know what that is, you need to find a Waffle House quickly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up surrounded by Waffle House restaurants. They have only recently popped up in our area north of the Mason-Dixon. I will say this, a Waffle House waitress without a southern drawl just isn't right! ( I wanted to say just "ain't" right for emphasis, but then I thought people would think me an illiterate moron, so I said isn't even though it just doesn't get the job done!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we finished our breakfast and were on the road, the snow had stopped and the sun was shining. It was a beautiful blue-sky day in Ohio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Center much too early for my appointment and as a result we had about an hour to fill. Having spent the last hour sitting in the car, I decided that we should take a walk. Twenty degrees is still cold, even when the sun is shining so I admit our walk didn't last very long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stopped in at Citrus, the restaurant in the hotel in which we stayed the last time we were in Cleveland and chatted over a hot cup of coffee before heading back for my appointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Center is a difficult place for me. When I am at home, living in my own cocoon, I don't have to constantly be reminded of the hatefulness of this disease. But there, at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Center, every wheelchair, every cane and every walker is like a beacon, a giant neon sign flashing the letters &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;MS&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;right in my face. I tried to position myself in the waiting area in such a way as to avoid the flashing neon signs but one lit up right beside me and caused me to quietly fall apart. When the dancing she-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;neuro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; called out my name, I had to wipe away silent tears as I stood to walk down the long corridor to her office. As we walked, she could see I was upset and kindly asked if I was OK. My mouth said I was fine. My head and my heart had other things to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dancing neurologist seems to think I may be dealing with some depression. Seriously, how could I not be depressed? The very me that I am/was, was yanked up and blown apart in the wind like a dandelion. My photography and artwork, the very thing in which I find solace has been stolen from me. Sitting at the computer, editing photos and creating artwork now has to be limited to very small amounts of time. The sitting causes me to have a mushy brain. Since I have been limiting my time spent in the chair at my computer I am seeing some slight improvement. I will take anything I can get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep has been a challenge lately. I lie awake some nights until two or three o'clock in the morning. Before the MS, the thought of me having an anxiety attack would have been laughable. Last week I'm fairly certain that I had a full blown anxiety attack. It was not fun. It was justifiable. Not only am I dealing with the MS issues, I am also still in elevated-white-blood-cell-count limbo as well as dealing with some unexplainable "woman stuff".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I handle all of these changes fairly well most of the time, but once in a while I just have to be sad or angry about it all. I am only human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dancing neurologist, while trying to make me feel better told me how there are sixteen year old girls who have an MS attack and their lives are devastated by it forever. She made a point of letting me know that I am 49 and have held it at bay all this time. What she doesn't know is when you are young (and she is very young) that 49 might seem old. But to me, who has a mother who is 86, 49 still seems very young. I still have a lot of living to do. Don't misunderstand, I have no problem with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;DN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; or her youth. She is very bright or she wouldn't be seeing patients at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Center nor would she have been the recipient of the Sylvia Lawry Physician Fellowship. I already have a great deal of respect for this young doctor. She was just trying to help me put things into perspective. I appreciate her candor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the hematologist last week in hopes of getting some answers concerning the elevated white blood cell count. Contrary to what I had hoped for, he felt me up again. At least this time I was emotionally prepared for the possibility. And honestly, I have had so many different people handling me over the last two weeks, that I feel like &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;should be the one getting paid&lt;/em&gt;! I won't know any results from the four blood tests that the hematologist ordered until the 21st of March.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was good news as far as my lesions are concerned. There are no new lesions and the really nasty one in my neck does not enhance in the MRI. There are no new MS symptoms, I am still trying to overcome the ones that presented themselves in November around the time of the evil IV steroids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no MS medicine as of yet. I may get into a research program at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Center so we are waiting for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;blood work&lt;/span&gt; results before we start the medication. If the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;blood work&lt;/span&gt; results keep me from being in the research program, I will still be able to start the medication. We are just waiting to see if I can get into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;research&lt;/span&gt; program before we start it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to follow the dancing neurologist's suggestions for getting to sleep faster. We'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I think I have felt a little better emotionally and physically over the last week. Again, I'll take it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(I should probably explain the whole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;dancing&lt;/span&gt; neurologist thing. On my first visit to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt; Center, during the course of conversation, the dancing she-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;neuro&lt;/span&gt; told us that when she began college she was going to be a dancer. Dancer turned neurologist. Now THAT is a career change! And I am better for her having made this choice. Who knows? One day she may read my blog and a little sucking up never hurt.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-6932424197979821590?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6932424197979821590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=6932424197979821590' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6932424197979821590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6932424197979821590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/03/dancing-neurologist.html' title='The Dancing Neurologist'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RfQw1GAzK4I/AAAAAAAAALo/hz0sd-pKiEc/s72-c/people22.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-8040495640174751588</id><published>2007-02-14T15:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T09:32:33.042-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Things To Hate About MS'/><title type='text'>Things To Hate About MS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;11. Feeling broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I can't plan ANYTHING!!!! As sure as you make a plan, that is the day you wake up feeling like crap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Living with the constant fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. IV SOLUMEDROL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Now that I know that MS is responsible for the deterioration of my vision it gives me just one more thing to hate about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I hate that I can't dance. I love to dance. I think I came out of the womb dancing. Having that taken away from me is like suffering the loss of a good friend. It is a huge part of who I am. You just try and hold me still when Twist &amp;amp; Shout is playing! I managed to slow dance with my precious husband at a wedding reception this weekend. Since my left leg now seems to have a mind of its own, it was no surprise at all that for the first time in 26 years I stepped on his toes a time or two, but we managed to laugh it off and just keep dancing. Joseph, you are my hero!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I hate when I am out in public and I stumble or lose my balance, that people probably think I have been drinking. I need to have a t-shirt made that reads...I'm not drunk, I have MS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I hate MS because it makes me cry. I'm not a "cryer", I am a "laugher" and now I have to fight back tears every single day. Sometime I succeed, sometimes I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I hate the realization that my photography as I have known it, has probably ended. I did a shoot yesterday and when I got home I was so exhausted that I couldn't even carry a footstool up our five back stairs and into the house. One of the things that made my portrait photography unique was my interaction with my models, not sitting behind a tripod!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I hate that I can no longer bounce up and down the stairs at our house. I have to carefully maneuver the 39 steps that get you in, out and around my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I hate that taking a really hot bath makes me feel like a truck hit me! (OK, so I've never really had a truck hit me so I can't be sure about how that feels.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-8040495640174751588?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8040495640174751588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=8040495640174751588' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8040495640174751588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8040495640174751588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/things-to-hate-about-ms.html' title='Things To Hate About MS'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-7527842269833342944</id><published>2007-02-09T21:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:50.923-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Update to the Update :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/Rc0rJcGp94I/AAAAAAAAAF8/PNWhWMlzmfY/s1600-h/bang.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029723800005638018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/Rc0rJcGp94I/AAAAAAAAAF8/PNWhWMlzmfY/s320/bang.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The word is in from the blood work. My white blood cell count is still too high, so I will have to see the hematologist again. He is so not making me get naked again. At the very least he should have to buy me dinner first!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-7527842269833342944?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7527842269833342944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=7527842269833342944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7527842269833342944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7527842269833342944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/02/update-to-update.html' title='Update to the Update :)'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/Rc0rJcGp94I/AAAAAAAAAF8/PNWhWMlzmfY/s72-c/bang.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-774837985659954674</id><published>2007-02-09T10:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T11:34:15.946-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>I haven't updated in a while so I thought I would let everyone know that as of now, I am still hanging in limbo. I had another blood test (CBC) done on Tuesday to see if my white blood count is still wacky. If it is, I will have to visit the hematologist again.  I am unable to begin medicine for the MS until  they figure out the white blood count issue. It took two weeks to get an opinion on it from my family doctor (something about lost reports) so it has been slow going. I should know later today if I have to see the hematologist again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have good days and bad. I still have balance issues and my throat occasionally feels numb on one side. The facial numbness is still there but not quite as bad as it was for a while. I can't sit for long periods because the sitting aggravates the numbness. That explains why I haven't spent much time updating lately. Any available computer time has been spent working on senior photos and graduation announcements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is really all I have for now. I'll update when I know about the blood test results.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-774837985659954674?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/774837985659954674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=774837985659954674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/774837985659954674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/774837985659954674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/02/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-2186455408132626216</id><published>2007-01-15T14:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T14:52:35.868-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>The Results Are In</title><content type='html'>My Mellen Center She-Neuro called this morning to let me know that nothing new showed up on my MRI. That is good news! However, she talked a little about "prime real estate" and how my spinal lesion is occupying it. This isn't great news. She said she saw no real point in a lumbar puncture right now, because based on the information she has gathered, treatment would be the same no matter what the lumbar puncture showed. That is good news. She wants to get me started on Avonex. That is good news and bad news. It has quite a few side effects and is a weekly intramuscular injection. I can't start the Avonex until I get the go ahead from my hematologist, other She-neuro and family doctor. She wants to be sure they are all on the same page and that they don't think the elevated white blood count will cause any problems with the medicine. However, once it is in my system it will hopefully stop any new lesions from developing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling better. I still get facial numbness when I sit upright, but right now it is at least bearable. That is good news!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-2186455408132626216?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2186455408132626216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=2186455408132626216' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2186455408132626216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2186455408132626216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/results-are-in.html' title='The Results Are In'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-6751926329900974461</id><published>2007-01-13T10:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T10:35:49.110-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Give me a "V"</title><content type='html'>On Wednesday, I had another MRI.  Drugs for the event were provided by my local She-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Neuro&lt;/span&gt;. I must tell you, Valium is just plain FUN!!! It made an hour and ten minutes in a tomb with a jack hammer  seem almost like 15 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;minutes&lt;/span&gt;.  Valium is also very entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my sisters called moments before hubby and I were to leave for the MRI. I was a little slow at picking up the phone so the answering machine came on as I was picking it up.  Yes folks, there is a recording of me on Valium. I was laughing so uncontrollably that even I can barely understand what I was saying.  I was laughing, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; even on Valium I recognized how comical  it was to watch me sway my way over to the telephone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been told the results. (Of the MRI, I know the results of the Valium, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;) I'm really not in any hurry to hear them. It's not like they will find something and then actually be able to fix it. They will just find something...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-6751926329900974461?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6751926329900974461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=6751926329900974461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6751926329900974461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6751926329900974461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/give-me-v.html' title='Give me a &quot;V&quot;'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-4865621087581620791</id><published>2007-01-09T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T09:02:56.932-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'>AA</title><content type='html'>While skimming my last two posts this morning I had to laugh out loud. If you didn't know me, you might think after reading those two posts that just maybe I am going to the wrong doctors. I sound like I need AA more than I need a Neuro. All I can say is, right now, whatever gets me through the day (or night). Tee Hee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-4865621087581620791?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4865621087581620791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=4865621087581620791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/4865621087581620791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/4865621087581620791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/aa.html' title='AA'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-2388748617673945275</id><published>2007-01-08T16:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T08:59:42.515-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Another Day, Another Problem</title><content type='html'>If you read my blog you know that I was up all night last night. It was around 5:30 AM when I actually went to bed. I chugged a glass of Tormenta, a wonderful Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon  before going upstairs to bed. I rarely drink, just an occasional glass of wine with dinner, but MY GOSH...I just wanted to go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone rang around 10:30 AM, while I was still sleeping. It was the new She-Neuro, Dr. Boissy from Cleveland Clinic.  I had blood work done while I was at the clinic and it seems everything came back just fine except for, you guessed it...my white blood count is out of whack again. After some discussion, Dr. Boissy decided that March 7 was just too long to wait to get another MRI,  so now I am having one done locally on  Wed. (Jan 10)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really tired of doctors and loud magnetic fields and spending money.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-2388748617673945275?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2388748617673945275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=2388748617673945275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2388748617673945275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2388748617673945275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/another-day-another-problem.html' title='Another Day, Another Problem'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-6143010807891575069</id><published>2007-01-08T03:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T04:12:26.994-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'>Sleep Won't Come</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It is 3:18 AM. I can not sleep. Sometimes when I lie in bed, my mind just will not shut up. I have a million thoughts dancing around in my head.  Getting to sleep is sometimes a Catch 22. I need the TV on to go to sleep. The noise of Will &amp; Grace or HGTV acts as camouflage for the many thoughts that are racing through my mind. I set the sleep timer on the television, and most nights I am in a deep enough sleep by the time the TV turns off, that I don't wake up at the snap and pop of it turning off. Not so tonight. Tonight when it turned off, the buzz and sizzle woke me right up. I was not yet in a deep enough sleep to dream past the sound. I stayed in the bed until about 1:00, then painfully aware that I had missed my opportunity for sleep, I stumbled (no humor intended) out of bed and downstairs to the comforting glow of the computer monitor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The MS has been cruel as of late, keeping me from the very thing I love the most (other than my children and husband of course). During the days of the IV solumedrol event, when I felt all was wrong with the world, I could submerge myself in a sea of photographs, creating art as a way to drown my fear and pain. This last episode of aggravated lesion which began on Dec 27, has often kept me from the computer. Facial numbness comes when I sit upright and a wiggling internal tremor often comes when I sit with mouse in hand, my very solace from the mean disease stolen from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.themcfox.com/multiple-sclerosis/ms-symptoms/lhermittes-sign.htm"&gt;Lhermittes sign&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; is a constant companion, an annoying reminder with every forward movement of my head. Sometimes in a moment  of laughter  or a moment of quiet, I might forget for a split second that my body is no longer mine. Then in an instant, the MS shouts back at me with the strange warm sensation that shoots down my right leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, DH and I went to a restaurant on the outskirts of Cleveland by the name of &lt;a href="http://www.abuelos.com/"&gt;Abuelos&lt;/a&gt;. I have decided to let the She-Neuro know that if she has other patients who are suffering from facial numbness, she can send them to Abuelos and tell them to order the Sangria Swirl. Once they have a Sangria Swirl, they won't really notice if their head is numb! Hmmmm, I could use one right now! It is now 4:00 AM. Sleep won't come...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-6143010807891575069?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6143010807891575069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=6143010807891575069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6143010807891575069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6143010807891575069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/sleep-wont-come.html' title='Sleep Won&apos;t Come'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-8909916142352313610</id><published>2007-01-05T19:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:51.121-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'>A Little Better and A Little Better</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RZ79uFti7zI/AAAAAAAAACI/dAE__SyQVI8/s1600-h/IMG_0940.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RZ79uFti7zI/AAAAAAAAACI/dAE__SyQVI8/s200/IMG_0940.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016726003186331442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just so you won't think I jumped off a bridge or something when you  read my post titled "Today" , I want you to know that true to my word, I took that day to be mad and sad and then got myself up yesterday and tried to move on. I did feel a little bit better yesterday, though still not really able to take on much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today, I felt a little bit better than yesterday, and hopefully I will feel a little bit better tomorrow. Once one of these lesions has started screaming, it is really hard to get it to shut up. It just takes time, precious time.  My daughter will be coming home from her trip to London and Paris soon and it seems I have been in a bad way ever since she left. Hopefully, by the time she gets back home, this episode will almost be completely behind me and she will never have to know about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My son went back to college tonight, after a long holiday break. I wanted to spend some time with him today, doing what moms do...restocking his pantry for the next semester away from home. I managed fairly well, maybe with a little less lift in my step than usual, but still I managed.  We had a good day. I even cooked a homemade meal for him before he left, with leftovers to take back to school for tomorrow. The house will be entirely too quiet now, without his X-Box 360 bumping and banging and without the sound of him playing his guitar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sigh.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-8909916142352313610?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8909916142352313610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=8909916142352313610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8909916142352313610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8909916142352313610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/little-better-and-little-better.html' title='A Little Better and A Little Better'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RZ79uFti7zI/AAAAAAAAACI/dAE__SyQVI8/s72-c/IMG_0940.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-9006969379179509691</id><published>2007-01-03T15:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:51.216-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'>Today...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RZwWOoxT7RI/AAAAAAAAAB4/AkREk2rMb1c/s1600-h/IMG_0898.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RZwWOoxT7RI/AAAAAAAAAB4/AkREk2rMb1c/s400/IMG_0898.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015908525702114578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Today I am going to wallow.&lt;br /&gt;Today I am going to stomp my feet and scream.&lt;br /&gt;Today I may even throw things and swear.&lt;br /&gt;Today I am going to weep uncontrollably.&lt;br /&gt;Today I am going to be mad at God for giving this to me in the first place.  I know it is wrong to question why, but I am human and I sometimes wonder what I did to deserve this. I even think his stupid golden rod is beautiful. Other people  dread its arrival, it being the messenger of fall hay fever. But me, I think it is beautiful. Its sunny gold is magnificent late on a glorious fall afternoon, which by the way, I also love. Others might think goldenrod a mistake.  I think it is beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer want to feel broken, this mean disease chiseling away at bits and pieces of me until there is little of&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; me&lt;/span&gt; left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to wake and look forward to the day ahead. I want to yawn and stretch as I admire the sunlight trickling in between the slats of  the blinds. Instead, I wake up dreading the day, wondering if the tasks I am expected to complete will be more than I can physically or emotionally conquer. I want to roll over and go back to sleep. I am afraid to stretch. Having a doctor tell you that your most recent symptoms may be a sign of a lesion on your brain stem affects your every thought and every move. What if I stretch too far? What if I sneeze too hard? What if this is the day that I can't walk or talk or possibly breathe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[The newest She-Neuro from  Cleveland Clinic, thinks it possible that my newest problems, the facial numbness, the muffled hearing, the tingling lips, the headaches, the wiggling/bubbling under my surface  and the neck pain may indicate a new active lesion on the brain stem. Not good news at all.  What if someone had started treatment on me in September,  as soon as I was diagnosed? Could this have been avoided? Now I wait again. The Doctors at the Mellen Center want  me to have a new MRI. I can't get it for two more months. Which means I won't start treatment for at least two more months.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel as if I have a concrete block tied around my heart. As if I am sinking under water, drowning in fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting in the living room. The Christmas tree still stands. It is wrapped in crystal garland. Bright, low winter sunlight is shining through the window and the crystal garland is showering  rainbows in the living room and dining room. Beautiful rainbows are frolicking all over the walls and the hardwood floor. Usually, they would bring a smile to my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I feel like they are mocking me. I will close the blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I will get up, brush myself off and try and go about living my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm gonna cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-9006969379179509691?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/9006969379179509691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=9006969379179509691' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/9006969379179509691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/9006969379179509691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/today.html' title='Today...'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RZwWOoxT7RI/AAAAAAAAAB4/AkREk2rMb1c/s72-c/IMG_0898.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-772843733457995002</id><published>2007-01-03T15:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:51.510-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>The Mellen Center Gong Show</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RZvO-YxT7PI/AAAAAAAAABk/D1BZsTspro0/s1600-h/gongsh2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015830181203668210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 164px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 175px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RZvO-YxT7PI/AAAAAAAAABk/D1BZsTspro0/s200/gongsh2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am sitting in the waiting area of the Cleveland Clinic's Mellen Center. I am facing the wall, focusing on a painting made by someone named Marvin. It is very &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,153,0)"&gt;green&lt;/span&gt;. It has a goldfish/coy pond with waterlilies and lily pads in the water and a few calla lilies painted in the grass that surrounds the pond and it is huge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a man behind me, talking on a cell phone, speaking a language I don't understand. Occasionally there is a "gong" noise. Maybe it is the elevator, or an alert for the automatic doors, because when building a center for MS patients, you have to assume the doors will need to be automatic. The noise reminds me of the clanging of the gong in the old television game show, The Gong Show. I imagine that as patients are filing through this MS center, some are being GONGED! "Nope, sorry, nothing we can do for you. "Bang the gong Chuck" , and an old and feeble Chuck Barris waddles his way to the gong and swings with all his might. I really hope I don't get GONGED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to look around me. I will only focus on Marvin's painting. If I look around, I fear I will see things I can never take back out of my head. Wheelchairs, canes...I just can't think about those right now. There are days when I already have to force myself to get out of the bed. I don't really need the images of people in wheelchairs, a community of people afflicted with MS, haunting my waking moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a man who keeps hacking and coughing. I don't think he himself is an MS patient. I think he is with someone else. Good grief, there is an entire empty section of waiting area. Why must he bring his hacking within a few feet of us. I am trying to stay healthy here!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be glad when this is over with. I know I need to be here but I don't want to be. I don't really want to hear one more person tell me that I have MS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a do-over, a Mulligan. I want to go back. I don't want to be this person. I'm simply not very fond of the me that I am right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-772843733457995002?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/772843733457995002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=772843733457995002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/772843733457995002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/772843733457995002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/mellen-center-gong-show.html' title='The Mellen Center Gong Show'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RZvO-YxT7PI/AAAAAAAAABk/D1BZsTspro0/s72-c/gongsh2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-1342927376447189825</id><published>2006-12-31T11:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T14:10:05.569-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Finally Off To Cleveland</title><content type='html'>Christmas has come and gone, and 2007 is literally right around the corner.  On New Year's Day we head for Cleveland where we will stay in  a hotel overnight so that we don't have to rush around on Tuesday morning to be at my appointment at the &lt;a href="http://www.clevelandclinic.org/mellen/"&gt;Cleveland Mellen Center&lt;/a&gt;. I have waited three months for this appointment. I have basically been hibernating since Christmas, going out only to take my daughter to the airport for her trip to London and Paris and to go to the She-Neuro on Thursday. I have been trying to avoid the terrible stomach flu that has been running rampant in our area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The She-Neuro is really growing on me.  She has a very calming effect, is a good listener and has a pretty good sense of humor, something you need to help you get through the bad MS days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had a less than wonderful last four days, having had my MS weird head as well as the facial numbness that started during my IV steroid adventure. Finally, today when I woke up the headache was only a faint whisper, although I am still getting the tingling in my face. The numbness in my neck and face seems to be worse when I sit vertically, which is not a good thing when you are someone who sits at the computer and edits photos nearly every day. Lying or standing gives me some relief so I have to get up and down a lot when I am trying to work at the computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew I felt better today when I awoke and didn't mind getting up out of the bed. I am  a morning person. I love morning. I look forward to getting up each and every day, and for me to sleep past 8:00 is a very rare thing. During the past four days I have had to absolutely make myself get up. AND THE CRYING...for goodness sake...I don't cry and when I am having one of these recurring episodes I cry at the drop of a hat. I still haven't become used to THAT! It is just weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fear I am going to have a tough time of it with this lesion on my spine. Whenever anyone hears that you have one on your spine they give you that "Oh You Poor Thing" look.  I try not to think about it, but especially since I now have to deal with this weird squishy head thing and facial numbness I am truly afraid that I am going to wake up one day and really be a mess. Fear is a horrible thing. Emotional junk really stirs up the MS so it becomes a vicious circle. The fear and worrying only cause it to act up more, but the acting up causes much fear and worry. So you see, it is not an easy thing being diagnosed with MS.  I recently read somewhere that "You don't GET MS until you get MS." It is a very true statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck at the Mellen Center.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-1342927376447189825?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1342927376447189825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=1342927376447189825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/1342927376447189825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/1342927376447189825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmas-has-come-and-gone-and-2007-is.html' title='Finally Off To Cleveland'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-6364699896405535432</id><published>2006-12-20T08:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T08:56:50.334-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Symptoms'/><title type='text'>The Eyes Don't Have It.</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, it is better to never have had something, than to have had it and then have it taken away.  After receiving the IV Solumedrol my vision improved slightly for several days. I could actually read the guide on digital cable without squinting. But sigh, my vision has returned to its post MS quality.  I know I have much to be thankful for, but it was such a disappointment to have my vision improve, only to have it return to its previous state.  I guess if nothing else, it finally explains to me why my vision has declined so much over the last couple of years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-6364699896405535432?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6364699896405535432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=6364699896405535432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6364699896405535432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6364699896405535432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/eyes-dont-have-it.html' title='The Eyes Don&apos;t Have It.'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-3168084431403442378</id><published>2006-12-09T21:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:08:52.559-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>The Happy Tree</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006729714224804482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RXt6JfbDMoI/AAAAAAAAABc/c5CsX7ltwXE/s320/IMG_0686+copy+(Medium).jpg" border="0" /&gt;Two years ago, I bought a cheap 6 1/2 foot white Christmas tree from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; to use for a holiday photo shoot. I wanted to do something different from the typical red &amp; green Christmas. Little did I know at the time how much joy I would receive for my $39.99.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For many years, I have decorated a Christmas tree in our kitchen. If I were truly going to get to enjoy a Christmas tree, it needed to be in the area where I spent most of my time. I spend the largest amount of my time in either the kitchen or the computer room which looks into the kitchen. So began the tradition of a Christmas tree in our kitchen. There have been live pines and small &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;artificials&lt;/span&gt;, but always a tree in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year when I started to decorate our home for the holidays, I decided that I would put the crazy white tree in the kitchen. Why not? I already had it, so why not use it. I draped it with beautiful white twinkly lights, but something was still missing. I added a string of colorful satin 1 1/2 inch globe lights. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Ahhh&lt;/span&gt;, now I was on to something. The brightly colored lights gave a colorful glow to the white Christmas tree. The cord to the globe lights is forest green, but that didn't stop me. That dark green cord just adds to the crazy charm of the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006729924678202066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RXt6VvbDMtI/AAAAAAAAACE/zTikzsRN3CQ/s320/IMG_0691+(Medium).jpg" border="0" /&gt;I filled it with brightly colored glass ornaments, both new and vintage. It sports a frog in a pink hula skirt/tutu and a pink glass flamingo. It shines with glittering snowballs and shimmering icicles and snowflakes. With each ornament I would hang on the tree, a new smile would spread across my face. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006729718519771794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RXt6JvbDMpI/AAAAAAAAABk/pkhcOmgEXBU/s320/IMG_0689+(Medium).jpg" border="0" /&gt;As Christmas drew near, it soon became clear to me that my crazy tree still made me smile every single time I walked into my kitchen. It quickly became known as my "happy tree". My daughter told me that it looked like it belonged in a Dr. Seuss book. It has the same appeal as plastic pink flamingos on a lawn. Tacky? Why, yes...but just try not to smile at it! &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006729718519771826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RXt6JvbDMrI/AAAAAAAAAB0/tC1yPX1n1d8/s320/IMG_0695+(Medium).jpg" border="0" /&gt;This year has been a challenge for me. The discovery of the disease that has forever changed my life has not been an easy thing to face. As the holidays approached, I had to make some choices. The flurry of cooking and decorating has been tempered by other circumstances. Priorities, you know? Last week I had a three day dose of IV steroids followed by a week of near hell dealing with the harsh side effects. With each day that passes, I hope that this will be the day that I feel better. My head, my brain, has been a real challenge this past week, feeling squishy and heavy and swollen, as if it just could not fit inside my skull. Being vertical aggravates the already miserable feeling as well as causes numbness in my neck, face, lips and up to the bridge of my nose. This numbness and swollen feeling also affects my hearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday, I could tell that I felt a tiny bit better and with each day since there has been slight improvement. Even as I type this blog, my brain feels like it is being squeezed, like something in there is trying to make room and there just is none to be had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Christmas fast approaching, I just couldn't stand not yet having a Christmas tree. So on Thursday and Friday I worked diligently at assembling and decorating my happy tree. It took me all day Thursday to get it assembled and another entire day to get it decorated. I tried to look at it in the way that the wonderful &lt;a href="http://flylady.net/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Flylady&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; has taught me to meet other challenges in my life, one piece, one step, one bite at a time. I would hang a branch and lie down for a while and then I would hang another branch until finally, I had a whole tree. It may have taken 2 1/2 days, but my happy tree now stands cheerfully in my kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided that this year I will take the "Happy Tree" to a new level. With the new challenges that I am facing in my life, I sometimes need to be reminded of all the many things that bring me joy. With every day that the Happy Tree stands in my kitchen, I will write down on a small tag, one thing that brings me joy. I will hang each and every tag on my Happy Tree as a constant reminder that in spite of the struggles, there is much in my life to be joyful about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you all find a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Happy Tree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; in your lives this holiday season.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006729718519771810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RXt6JvbDMqI/AAAAAAAAABs/EjXgJZexQwU/s320/IMG_0690+copy+(Medium).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-3168084431403442378?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3168084431403442378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=3168084431403442378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/3168084431403442378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/3168084431403442378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/happy-tree.html' title='The Happy Tree'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5V9qCzXHALg/RXt6JfbDMoI/AAAAAAAAABc/c5CsX7ltwXE/s72-c/IMG_0686+copy+(Medium).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-861813840598377263</id><published>2006-12-07T20:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T20:16:17.412-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>UPDATE</title><content type='html'>It has been a very rough week for me. I had a reaction to the steroids. Today is the first day I have been able to be up and move about since last Saturday. I have spent most of the last 6 days lying on my side. (For those of you who actually know me, you know that couldn't have been very easy.)  I am feeling a bit better each day. I saw the She-Neuro yesterday. I am more certain than ever that I made the correct choice of doctor. More details later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-861813840598377263?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/861813840598377263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=861813840598377263' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/861813840598377263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/861813840598377263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/update.html' title='UPDATE'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-7294673507460175573</id><published>2006-12-01T10:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T10:15:46.976-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Quick Note...</title><content type='html'>Today I had to take a step down in the magnification of my cheater glasses. I have been too cheap to buy real glasses, knowing how abusive I am to them, it felt like a waste of money when I could go to Sam's Club and buy four pair for about $19.00. Today I noticed that the ones I had been using as of late were making my computer monitor blurry so I stepped down to an older pair of lesser magnification and VOILA, I can see perfectly with them again. Can I get a WOO &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;HOO&lt;/span&gt;!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-7294673507460175573?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7294673507460175573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=7294673507460175573' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7294673507460175573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7294673507460175573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/quick-note.html' title='Quick Note...'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-6273893850004369864</id><published>2006-12-01T08:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T09:57:02.031-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>IV Solumedrol: Day Three</title><content type='html'>The third one was not the charm. I had a pretty nasty headache throughout most of the evening, falling asleep right after I ate dinner and almost sleeping through pushing the go button to record Grey's Anatomy for my daughter. We have a DVD recorder and you can't watch one channel while recording another and I always use the flexible record mode so that each program is in the highest viewable quality possible. Hubby thought I had it set up to the point of just pushing a button, but I needed to set up the flexible recording time still and shot up out of a dead sleep at 8:59 and almost didn't get it started in time. Britt doesn't have cable in her apartment, one less added expense for a college student who isn't home much anyway, so I record G A for her each week. Just a small token of my love for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday my jaws hurt terribly all day. I don't know if it had so much to do with the steroids as maybe with my gum chewing to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;camouflage&lt;/span&gt; the taste in my mouth from the steroids. I will try and stay away from the gum today. I have Life Savers and Altoids that I can stick with today if the taste is still there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three days of steroids took three days of starting new IV sites. Each day the nurses would look at my arm and think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;mmm&lt;/span&gt;, good veins (which by the way is because I am transparent and not because they are really such good veins). Then they would stick the needle in only to find they had to chase my vein down once they got in there. Each nurse would almost &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;tisk-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;tisk&lt;/span&gt; the nurse the day before when I would tell them that she had trouble once she had the needle in me, then they would realize that it was happening to them too. The third nurse decided that I may have spastic veins that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt; run from the needle or something like that. She finally decided she was in, even though she was getting no blood return and sure enough as soon as she went ahead and hooked up the IV it started to flow just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I start the oral steroid taper. It will last for 12 days. Wish me luck. Oral steroids gave me tremors in 2000. My new she-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Neuro&lt;/span&gt; put me on a different type. I was on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Prednisone&lt;/span&gt; in 2000. This time I am on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Dexamethasone&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the head isn't pounding too hard this morning I need to try and get some editing done. I'll check back in later and let you know how the oral steroids are treating me, no pun intended.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-6273893850004369864?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6273893850004369864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=6273893850004369864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6273893850004369864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6273893850004369864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/iv-solumedrol-day-three.html' title='IV Solumedrol: Day Three'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-991464077397356578</id><published>2006-11-29T19:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T09:53:33.363-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>IV Solumedrol: Day Two</title><content type='html'>Another good day. I feel very fortunate. I had another wonderful nurse and we were able to speed the drip up a bit today. I slept for three hours after the nurse left which is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; not the effect I would have predicted that  steroids would have  on me. I thought for sure I would be crazy-bouncing off the walls like a howler monkey but instead, they are just knocking me on my butt. Go figure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My body must have become somewhat accustomed to the steroids. I finished in a little under 2 1/2 hours with no terrible head weirdness today. I am unsure of what physical help it may have given me so far since I have come pretty far without the steroids. I was still a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;little&lt;/span&gt; off balance today. I was hoping for that to go away, and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Lhermitte's&lt;/span&gt; Sign (the weird feeling down my right side when I lean my head forward still seems to be there, although maybe not as severe. I can still see a little better, which is worth getting the steroids even if none of the other problems get any help from them. I still have the bad taste in my mouth and still have a headache , although neither is as severe as yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The IV from yesterday had blocked itself off so they had to start one in a new spot today, so rather than have that thing in my arm again tonight I just told her to take it out and start a new one again tomorrow. Needles don't really bother me, so I'd rather not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;to&lt;/span&gt; deal with it and be able to sleep without feeling like my arm is bound tonight. That was my biggest challenge trying to sleep last night, having a tube sock on my arm. Welcome to claustrophobia land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more day to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-991464077397356578?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/991464077397356578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=991464077397356578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/991464077397356578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/991464077397356578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/iv-solumedrol-day-two.html' title='IV Solumedrol: Day Two'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-5406781538174977427</id><published>2006-11-29T09:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T09:49:09.510-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>So last night...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So last night I was lying in the bed watching Will &amp; Grace. I love to end my day with that bit of humor, so several nights a week I watch Will &amp;amp; Grace repeats before I go to sleep. Who can have a bad nights sleep after watching their crazy antics? When the show was over and the credits were rolling I suddenly realized that I could read most of it. It wasn't entirely clear but I could certainly see them better than I have seen them in more than a year!!! Of course, then I had to channel surf and read the digital cable guide to see if it was just a fluke. I could actually see the names of the channels and the programs that were listed. Again, not perfectly clear, but I could read them without squinting and leaning forward. Did you know that the small word &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"the&lt;/span&gt;" is inside the C of the CW network's logo? I leaned over and poked my husband to wake him up to tell him that I could read the credits. LOL, the man sleeps like a dead person. He barely remembered it this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eventually had to get up to go to the bathroom and everything in the bathroom was more clear to me, the tile, the floor , the rugs. The hall oriental rug design was vivid. It was as if I had been looking at things through a dirty window and someone washed it! Woo hoo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At midnight I came downstairs and called my nocturnal sister who I knew would likely still be awake to tell her that I could see better. I knew she would be happy for me. I just had to tell someone. Someone who was alive and would actually be able to respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I still have a headache, but the bad taste has gone for now. The vision improvement isn't as good as it was at midnight last night but maybe after the next two treatments it will stick. All I can say is "bring on the steroids"!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-5406781538174977427?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5406781538174977427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=5406781538174977427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5406781538174977427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5406781538174977427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/so-last-night.html' title='So last night...'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-3464755390541370064</id><published>2006-11-28T20:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T20:42:31.146-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>IV Solumedrol: Day One</title><content type='html'>So far so good...It took about three hours for my IV drip instead of the one hour that it is supposed to take. Each time she would speed up the drip my head would start to feel really funny and sort of like the top wanted to blow off. I've had a tiny bit of racing heart and tightness in my chest but barely enough to mention. I do have a headache, but even it isn't unbearable. Ibuprofen didn't really seem to help it at all. The weird taste in my mouth was easily masked with Ice Breakers gum. I chewed it the entire time I was being given the drip and I only had to get a new piece once and that was because I thought I would switch it up and have a mint. The mint didn't work as well as the gum.  That Ice Breakers has some long lasting flavor!!! Water is unbearable. The taste of it is so warped by the Solumedrol that it is nearly impossible to drink, but I am trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to be "opposite girl" when it comes to medications and so instead of hyping me up, I was asleep within an hour of the time the nurse left. I guess I won't be refinishing my floors, painting my walls and decorating the house for Christmas during these three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse from Option Care was wonderful. I am very pleased with them so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to go back to the couch. My head still feels a little "woo woo".&lt;br /&gt;Wish for me that tomorrow's treatment goes as well as today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-3464755390541370064?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3464755390541370064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=3464755390541370064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/3464755390541370064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/3464755390541370064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/iv-solumedrol-day-one.html' title='IV Solumedrol: Day One'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-5765685038939236533</id><published>2006-11-28T11:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T11:31:54.790-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Conflicting Emotions</title><content type='html'>Today I am both sad and mad, as well as scared. In 1 1/2 hours I begin my IV Solumedrol treatment for the first time. The fear of the unknown is just not very much fun. There will be side effects for sure, but once again it is like playing Russian Roulette. You don't know which ones you are going to get until they happen. I will likely swell up, just what I need. Already I have no idea who this woman is who looks back at me from my mirror and after the steroids, she sure will be unfamiliar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish they were administering it somewhere besides my home. I wish I had told them I would just come to their facility. My home is my haven, my safe place and now there will be this memory in my house. It sucks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-5765685038939236533?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5765685038939236533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=5765685038939236533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5765685038939236533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5765685038939236533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/conflicting-emotions.html' title='Conflicting Emotions'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-5229238173583367010</id><published>2006-11-27T08:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T09:30:10.460-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>The First Treatment</title><content type='html'>Well, we made it through Turkey-day without a hitch. I was a little tired the day after Thanksgiving, so I just sat and edited photos all day to catch up on my energy. It was great to have both kids home for the holiday, although I use the word "kids" loosely since they are actually both adults. Today I will take Britt back to school and try to mentally prepare for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow begins my first treatment of IV &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Solumedrol&lt;/span&gt; (steroids). My new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Neuro&lt;/span&gt; feels that I have enough residual effects going on in my body from the enhanced lesions to justify at least a good effort at putting them into remission. I totally agree. It may not help, but then again, I may feel almost brand new after the side effects of the actual treatment are gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An in-home healthcare nurse will come to my house for the next three days to administer the IV medicine. They will put in an IV port and leave it there for three days. I hope they are able to put it in a location which least affects my mobility. When I was in the hospital, they put it on top of my right hand. That wasn't a great spot for a right-handed person. Of course, as my husband would say "What makes you think it is about you?" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;, he is so right. It is not their job to consider my inconvenience. It is their job to get it done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a huge list of possible side effects from the IV &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Solumedrol&lt;/span&gt;, hopefully most of them are temporary. I'm a little freaked out by the unknown aspect of the treatment. The needle thing is no big deal at all. I have no fear of needles, of blood work etc. My fear is of the medicine itself and the effects it will have on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to take oral steroids in 2000 for a horrendous case of poison ivy and they were no fun at all. They totally altered my personality and led to tremors in my legs that warranted them being discontinued. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Neuro&lt;/span&gt; says that sometimes IV steroids have a very different effect from oral steroids. I can expect my heart to race, sleeplessness, weird taste in my mouth, a lot of trips to the bathroom, drippy eyes and the list goes on and on. Maybe I will be lucky and the side effects will be minimal. A girl can dream can't she?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a high energy person, thus far, even with MS. For those of you who know me...can you even imagine ME on steroids? It should be interesting to say the least! As if I don't talk fast enough already...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep me in your thoughts over the next few days as I take a new road on this journey that I was forced to travel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-5229238173583367010?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5229238173583367010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=5229238173583367010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5229238173583367010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/5229238173583367010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/well-we-made-it-through-turkey-day.html' title='The First Treatment'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-332897670193057637</id><published>2006-11-20T08:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T09:23:01.804-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>The Miracle Cure</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/5980/911955235579251/1600/83163/cancan.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/5980/911955235579251/400/742080/cancan.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I only have a few minutes today. I have to buy Thanksgiving groceries and continue cooking for the holiday. Quite frankly, this year I am just thankful that I am able to cook at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just had to tell you about the miracle drug that my new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;neuro&lt;/span&gt; gave me. In my previous post I told you that she had given me a shot of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Depomedrol&lt;/span&gt;/B12. Well I'll be "dad-blasted" (that's southern for damn. ;) if it didn't relieve the right arm pain that I have had since July. I pulled a muscle or something in my right arm when my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;niece&lt;/span&gt; and her family were visiting in July and it has hurt every day since, some days worse than others and having to use a mouse so much to edit photos certainly wasn't conducive to it healing. Well, "bring on the hypodermics" is all I can say! My arm often hurt so bad that I couldn't stand to lift a coffee cup. Woo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;! It doesn't even hurt when I have it all tangled up with my pillow at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time to get busy. The grocery stores are waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just in case I don't get to blog again until after the holiday, Have a Happy Thanksgiving!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-332897670193057637?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/332897670193057637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=332897670193057637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/332897670193057637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/332897670193057637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/miracle-cure.html' title='The Miracle Cure'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-1119454802626596244</id><published>2006-11-17T08:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T08:58:44.372-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'>Turn out the lights, the party's over...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have never had a female doctor until now. My children had female pediatricians. However, until now I have never had a female doctor. It is not that I don't think they are capable; the situation has just never presented itself before now. When I moved to Ohio in 1982, I used the family doctor that my husband's family used. He helped me get past an awful addiction to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Afrin&lt;/span&gt; nose spray (Stay away from that crap! It shouldn't be sold over the counter!!!) and from that day forward he has been my hero. He is still our family doctor and I dread the day when he will begin to think about retirement. I trust him beyond question. When my male gynecologist retired, I stayed with his replacement. My dentist is male, my previous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;neuro&lt;/span&gt; was male, even the doctor who operated on my toe was male. So this having a female doctor, it is a little foreign to me. Again, so no one bashes me about the female doctor thing, it isn't that I have refused a female doctor, the situation has just never presented itself. I have had the same &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;gyne&lt;/span&gt; (the replacement) for about 18 years. I have had the same family doctor for 24 years. I had the same dentist for about 22 years, until he retired a couple of years ago and then I just used his replacement. So this is not a case of discrimination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Women are generally not my biggest fans. I realize that is a broad statement. Sometimes the truth hurts. OK, it doesn't really hurt. I just really don't care, which is probably why they don't like me in the first place. Women dress to please other women. Women think they are putting on makeup to show off for men, but they aren't. God forbid, you should run into a woman you know when you have no makeup on. You will be scarred for life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As I was discussing the new, yet unseen female doctor with my sister yesterday, I was voicing my inner weirdness over her being female and me never having a female doctor before and the fact that women don't really like me. Of course, she is my sister, so she likes me and probably can't understand why other women don't like me. She didn't necessarily agree with my assessment of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;likability&lt;/span&gt; factor when it comes to other women until I reminded her that the women in our family come with a built in "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;flirtability&lt;/span&gt;". (I don't think it is just the women. I have seen many a woman swoon over my four brothers as well.) [Spell-check keeps trying to tell me that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;flirtability&lt;/span&gt; is not a word. Get over it!] I am overweight, have some "big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' teeth" and I have let my natural gray hair reign supreme, but I can still get my flirt on if I need to. It is a gift. A gift that isn't really going to work very well on a straight female doctor. I guess I will have to map a new route!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just so we are clear...I don't intentionally flirt. It just is. It is absolutely harmless, I love my husband with all my heart. Maybe it isn't so much flirting as turning on the charm. Although I can't for the life of me figure out how those two things are different. Whichever, it has served me well over the years and I am not about to disown it now. I own it, and I hope that I live to be 86 and still own it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Back to the female &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Neuro&lt;/span&gt;...after all, this was supposed to be about her. I guess not only am I a flirt, but self-absorbed as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It was a little weird at first. She was very nice and had a wonderfully calming presence about her, which is in direct contrast to my previous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;neuro&lt;/span&gt; who was in a constant state of confusion. I don't really want to bash him. On a personal level, he was a nice guy. However, as a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;neuro&lt;/span&gt; for such an important disease, he was just a little too scatterbrained for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The new Ms. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Neuro&lt;/span&gt; spent a lot of time with me. I was impressed with that and the fact that she suggested some treatments etc. that I had openly wondered why the other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;neuro&lt;/span&gt; had not suggested the same things. (No matter how I try to fix that sentence, it just won't fix so take from it what you can. That is all I am saying.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She gave me a shot of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Depomedrol&lt;/span&gt;/B-12 and as soon as Thanksgiving is over, I will get a course of IV &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Solumedrol&lt;/span&gt; (steroids) in hopes of turning the light off on this lesion that is still hanging on and causing very aggravating, although not unbearable aftershocks. This thing in my right leg, I am finally able to describe what it feels like. When the heat washes down my leg, it actually feels like someone is pouring a bucket of warm water down my leg. Last night it had moved up as high as my ribcage, which is how high the numbness went when the onset of this devil started in September. If nothing else, this tells me that it is likely just the same old long-partying lesion that is causing this somewhat new sensation. Will somebody please turn off the lights and tell him it is time to go home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-1119454802626596244?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1119454802626596244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=1119454802626596244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/1119454802626596244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/1119454802626596244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/turn-out-lights-partys-over.html' title='Turn out the lights, the party&apos;s over...'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-8839621912180852484</id><published>2006-11-15T17:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T17:26:16.026-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Treatment'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/5980/911955235579251/1600/woot.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/5980/911955235579251/200/woot.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I get a big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;WOOT&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;WOOT&lt;/span&gt;? I have an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;appointment&lt;/span&gt; with my new neurologist tomorrow morning. I called today to make an appointment. They couldn't give me an actual appointment until January, but told me that the first available cancellation they had was mine. Luckily they called this afternoon to tell me they have a cancellation for tomorrow morning at 10:00. I don't usually get this excited over going to the doctor but getting in to a doctor right away is truly a blessing. I was unable to get into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt; Center at Cleveland Clinic until Jan 2. Even while seeing a specialist at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Mellen&lt;/span&gt; Center I will still need to have a doctor closer to home for emergencies. I know a few people who go to her and they speak very highly of her so hopefully she will be able to get me started on something to try and prevent this thing from getting worse. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As fate would have it, I have been feeling very well for several weeks. However,  this afternoon I have been having these weird heat flushes through my right leg as well as other little twinges here and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;there&lt;/span&gt; so the timing is perfect!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll update tomorrow afternoon. Wish me luck!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-8839621912180852484?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8839621912180852484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=8839621912180852484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8839621912180852484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8839621912180852484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/can-i-get-big-woot-woot-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-9220002383840398512</id><published>2006-10-31T07:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T07:22:16.066-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Things are still going well. I have been feeling pretty good for almost two weeks now. I did a senior photo shoot yesterday and had very few problems. I was even able to get up on my short person stool with no problem. I didn't exactly leap onto it in a single bound as I used to, but it wasn't quite the challenge that it was a few weeks ago. Hopefully we can keep the symptoms away for a long long time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not likely be blogging over the next week. My sisters are coming  to visit from Georgia. Yippee!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can read more about their visit &lt;a href="http://caris-photo-journal.blogspot.com/2006/10/sisters-are-coming.html"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-9220002383840398512?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/9220002383840398512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=9220002383840398512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/9220002383840398512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/9220002383840398512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-7515618796170595536</id><published>2006-10-24T08:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T08:58:22.533-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I just wanted to give everyone a little update. Nothing clever, I don't have time for clever right now. I have been locked up in a dark room editing senior pictures for the last week so I am far behind on my every day tasks. My two sisters are coming from Georgia to Ohio for a visit next week and I have to get caught up so that I can enjoy their visit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last week was a very good week for me physically. No real pain, no real numbness or any other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt; thing that MS does to you. The walk is still not perfect but definitely getting better. I had two doctors appointments. One with my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hematologist&lt;/span&gt; ( he set me free) and one with my family doctor. My family doctor made an appointment for me at Cleveland Clinic. I can't get in until Jan. 2. If I don't get in to see them until then, it will be four months since my attack. It takes six months for any MS medicine to really start to take affect, which means it will be ten months from the time I had my first diagnosed attack until medication starts to help me. That doesn't even take into consideration that in hindsight I suspect I have had MS for well over a year. I don't know if I am willing to wait that long. Having MS is like playing Russian Roulette. You never know when or where a lesion will happen and if it is in a relevant spot it could cause you to be unable to walk or talk or breathe or eat. Do I want to gamble like that? I feel like a walking time bomb! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We have a local MS specialist and I am toying with the idea of trying to see if I can get in at her office sooner than Jan 2. These people are messing with my life here!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So far this week I have had a little pain but nothing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;unbearable&lt;/span&gt;. The electrical shocks kept &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;me &lt;/span&gt;up all night two nights ago, this time in my legs. Yesterday I had them in my right hand. I stayed up until 3:00 Saturday morning editing pictures for a girl, so Saturday wasn't my best day, but overall it has been a pretty good past 10 days. I have too much work to do to sit here. I will check in again soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-7515618796170595536?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7515618796170595536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=7515618796170595536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7515618796170595536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7515618796170595536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-just-wanted-to-give-everyone-little.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-8689119521831231654</id><published>2006-10-20T10:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T08:40:17.390-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>Disposable Children</title><content type='html'>(This isn't going to be pretty, so some of you may not want to read this.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is wrong with people? How can they possibly think that their children are disposable? I am not going to mention names to protect the innocent, but I am really pissed off. When you have a child, you make a commitment. You had a choice, have it or not have it! If you chose to have it, then you need to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;freakin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;' step up and be a parent. Children are not disposable. You don't get to get rid of one just because it is broken. Odds are, if its broken its because YOU broke it, so by God, you need to step up and fix it. You don't get to ship them off to someone else in their teen years just because it gets more difficult. Weren't you a miserable mouthy teenager once too? You don't get to shuffle them around from person to person like they are of no importance. You don't get to bail on this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;responsibility&lt;/span&gt;. They should lock people up for this! There should be consequences. You don't get to throw a high school student out of your home just because they turned 18. What are they supposed to do? They are not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;freakin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;' DISPOSABLE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are yours. They are your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;responsibility&lt;/span&gt;. They are learning what you teach. If you teach them of how little importance they are, they are going to feel worthless. If you teach them to bail on adult &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;responsibilities&lt;/span&gt;, they are going shirk their own adult responsibilities. What kind of example are you setting and do you even care? Apparently not. I can't even imagine what it must be like to feel like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;no one&lt;/span&gt; wants you. One parent/guardian puts you off on someone else because they can't handle being a parent. Then the next parent/guardian throws you out and then you have to go back to where you weren't wanted in the first place. What kind of life is that for a child? What kind of life is this child going to have? How much self-worth is he or she ever going to feel? What is WRONG with people? You had a choice to have sex or not have sex. You had a choice to have the child or not have the child. If you are going to bring a child into this world you better make damn sure you are ready to step up and be a parent.  YOU DON"T GET TO JUST GET RID OF A CHILD BECAUSE YOU DON"T FEEL LIKE PARENTING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;CHILDREN ARE NOT DISPOSABLE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-8689119521831231654?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8689119521831231654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=8689119521831231654' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8689119521831231654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8689119521831231654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/disposable-children.html' title='Disposable Children'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-9126320731272103786</id><published>2006-10-13T22:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T19:35:24.541-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'>A Better Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/5980/911955235579251/1600/uyhuij%20copy%20(Small).0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/5980/911955235579251/400/uyhuij%20copy%20%28Small%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/5980/911955235579251/1600/uyhuij%20copy%20(Small).jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today was a better day. I didn't have to have any torture today. I still had a bit of a headache but felt fairly well for most of the day. This afternoon I have been struggling with balance but over all it wasn't a bad day. I was able to get some photo editing done today. It has been hard for me to edit lately because of my eyes. I started having trouble focusing later this afternoon and that was my sign that it was time to walk away from the computer. This is one of the things I was working on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-9126320731272103786?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/9126320731272103786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=9126320731272103786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/9126320731272103786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/9126320731272103786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/better-day.html' title='A Better Day'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-512045993322572529</id><published>2006-10-12T14:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T11:52:04.959-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day by Day'/><title type='text'>Getting Through Today</title><content type='html'>I am trying to deal with my MS one day at a time. It isn't always easy. Today is the second bad day I have had in a row. My legs didn't want to do their work yesterday and I was in a cranky mood most of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept very well last night, the best I have slept in quite a few days, but I woke up feeling sluggish and heavy-headed. I have a headache and my eyes are pulling. My left eye seems to want to be more blurry than usual. I feel a bit dizzy and my facial numbness is back today. I just want to go and curl up somewhere and watch a movie or take a nap. I can't. I have to go to the hospital this afternoon to have a mammogram. Yippee. I am just going to say it...Titty Torture! I can guarantee you that if a man had to throw his penis on a table and have it whacked with a hardback book to screen it for cancer, scientists would have already figured out a kinder gentler way to do that test!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so not in the mood for this today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-512045993322572529?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/512045993322572529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=512045993322572529' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/512045993322572529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/512045993322572529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/getting-through-today.html' title='Getting Through Today'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-726971778691497817</id><published>2006-10-12T14:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T11:56:14.461-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>Have it Your Way!</title><content type='html'>(Jenny &amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Missi&lt;/span&gt;, you thought I was kidding didn't you?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday my pseudo-daughter (my pseudo-grandchildren had to come from somewhere) and her good friend, who has now also become my friend, came for a visit. We had already decided to go to good old "Have it Your Way" Burger King because we had two little guys with us. Did you ever try to have a conversation with two bored small boys sitting at your lunch table? If so, we don't even need to explain why we chose Burger King and their play area as a place to have lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I have mentioned before, MS is a surprise each and every day. Yesterday was a difficult leg movement day and I'm not sure whether the fact that my legs were lazy made me annoyed or if I just started out annoyed and the legs were just a bonus. Regardless of where it started, yesterday probably wasn't the day for Burger King to mess with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long has "Have it Your Way" been their slogan, catch phrase, jingle etc? Well I decided to have it my way yesterday and they wouldn't let me. They have a new Mushroom Swiss Burger on their menu. I am not a huge beef fan but will manage to eat a BK cheeseburger &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;occasionally&lt;/span&gt; since the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;quantity&lt;/span&gt; of actual meat is very limited. I usually order a kid's meal if I eat at any of the fast food places. I figure, minimal amount of damage if I eat small. All I wanted to do was order a kid's meal with a cheeseburger and have them switch the American cheese to Swiss cheese and throw on some mushrooms. This should have been no problem for the "have it your way" Kings. WRONG!!! They refused to do it! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Arby's&lt;/span&gt; will add &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Swiss&lt;/span&gt; cheese to a kids junior roast beef and never flinch. I almost always ask for something slightly different when ordering at one of these places and it never trips anyone up. BK couldn't let me order what I wanted to have because the COMPUTER wouldn't let them. It should have been a no-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;brainer&lt;/span&gt;. The woman behind the counter said if they did it there would be an additional charge for the cheese and mushrooms. Do I look like I care if I have to pay an extra dollar? As it turned out, it would have been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Missi's&lt;/span&gt; extra dollar but I really don't think she would have cared either. Instead of letting me have it my way, which I really don't understand at all since it is all they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;FREAKIN&lt;/span&gt;' say in any commercial they do, they just made me mad and lost a customer. I'd rather have a McDonald's apple pie anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the phone number for our Burger King. Call them and tell them what a joke their slogan is since a person can't even get Swiss cheese and mushrooms added to a regular hamburger!&lt;br /&gt;(330) 545-3127 Do it, I dare you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-726971778691497817?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/726971778691497817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=726971778691497817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/726971778691497817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/726971778691497817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/have-it-your-way.html' title='Have it Your Way!'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-4189531793238387150</id><published>2006-10-08T11:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-08T11:32:20.988-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>Landslide</title><content type='html'>I have always loved the song "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac. I even liked the version done by the Dixie Chicks, although it wasn't the same as hearing Stevie Nicks sing it. Last weekend when we were at a wedding reception the DJ played the Fleetwood Mac version. As I was making my way around the dance floor in the arms of my husband, my lover, my best friend, the words to that song smacked me right in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a singer. There is not a day that goes by that I don't sing. I may make up a crazy song to sing to the cat or sing along with the collection of music I have on my computer, but I can guarantee you that not a day goes by that I don't sing. I also sing to my husband as we are slow dancing. I always have. As we were gliding around the dance floor (OK, maybe not really gliding since the MS came to visit, but I still want to believe we were gliding, so let me have my way) I was singing the words to Landslide along with Stevie.&lt;br /&gt;When it got to the verse&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, mirror in the sky&lt;br /&gt;What is love&lt;br /&gt;Can the child within my heart rise above&lt;br /&gt;Can I sail through the changing ocean tides&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can I handle the seasons of my life&lt;/em&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;Hmm Hmm, I don't know&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, Hmm"&lt;br /&gt;I sort of changed the words a little bit. Instead of "I don't know", I emphatically sang HELL NO!!!! My hubby laughed out loud at my declaration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have loved this man for more years of my life than I have lived without him. I met him at age 23 and we have been a couple now for 26 years. If at age 23 you had asked me if I could possibly love him more than I loved him at that given moment, I would have told you that it wasn't possible. I loved him so deeply there was no way I could love him more. If you asked me now, at age 49 if I could possibly love him more, I would tell you yes. That tomorrow I will love him more than I do today, because with each and every day that we share, with each and every moment that I love him, I know that tomorrow I will love him even more. He is my compass. He is my life. For him, I will always find my way home. I have built &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; life around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Landslide (as sung by Fleetwood Mac)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my love, and I took it down&lt;br /&gt;I climbed a mountain and I turned around&lt;br /&gt;And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills&lt;br /&gt;Till the landslide brought me down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, mirror in the sky&lt;br /&gt;What is love&lt;br /&gt;Can the child within my heart rise above&lt;br /&gt;Can I sail through the changing ocean tides&lt;br /&gt;Can I handle the seasons of my life,&lt;br /&gt;Hmm Hmm, I don't know&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, Hmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Ive been afraid of changing&lt;br /&gt;Cause I've built my life around you&lt;br /&gt;But time makes you bolder&lt;br /&gt;Children get older and&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting older too, so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been afraid of changing&lt;br /&gt;Cause I , I built my life around you&lt;br /&gt;But time makes you bolder&lt;br /&gt;Children get older and&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting older too,&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting older too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, take this love, take it down&lt;br /&gt;Oh, If you climb a mountain and you turn around&lt;br /&gt;If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills&lt;br /&gt;Well the landslide'll bring it down, down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills&lt;br /&gt;Well maybe, the landslide'll bring it down,&lt;br /&gt;The landslide'll bring it down&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-4189531793238387150?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4189531793238387150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=4189531793238387150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/4189531793238387150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/4189531793238387150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/landslide.html' title='Landslide'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-8570435381322668535</id><published>2006-10-04T07:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T08:17:06.003-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Diagnosis'/><title type='text'>Red, White &amp; Blue</title><content type='html'>When you are already reeling from a recent MS discovery, driving up to a building with a big sign out front that reads The Blood &amp; Cancer Center is probably not going to make you happy. I knew I was going to see a hematologist. I did not know that his office would be in the Blood &amp;amp; Cancer Center. That sign might as well have been a giant flashing neon sign. The impact it had on my mental state when I saw it was overwhelming. My heart started to beat faster and I swear, I could barely breath. My legs were weak...Oh yeah, sorry...They were weak before I got there. (MS joke)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are going to see a hematologist you assume that you will be keeping your clothes on and that they will be drawing blood. Wrong! The first thing they did was tell me to take off my clothes from the waist up. Excuse me...what do my bare breasts have to do with my blood? Chalk up another one for humiliation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sat there on the examining table in my beautiful open-front hospital gown, tears began to stream down my face. I wasn't prepared for this at all. Not for the BLOOD &amp;amp; CANCER CENTER and not for being bare-breasted anywhere but my bathroom, my bedroom and my gynecologist's office. I was emotionally prepared for needles, not nakedness! You have to work up to these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor was very kind and full of the normal questions like "When was your last period?". He used my lymph nodes like a road map, even the ones in my groin area, which again, not prepared for. Next time give me directions, let me know what to expect. Seriously!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually they did suck a few tubes of blood out of my arm and the results were good. My white blood count was back to normal. I guess I am not dying of cancer today. The Infectious Disease doctor who saw me while I was in the hospital, (because of my high white blood cell count) mentioned something about consistent elevated white blood cells being a precursor to Leukemia. Why put that in my head? I don't understand that about doctors. Just because you know it, doesn't mean you should always say it. I don't really want to know that I might get Leukemia, I only want to know if I have it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next stop, Cleveland Clinic. This time, I am asking what they are going to do to me before I get there. A woman needs to be prepared for these things. A lesson I should have learned when I showed up at the emergency room wearing red panties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-8570435381322668535?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8570435381322668535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=8570435381322668535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8570435381322668535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8570435381322668535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/red-white-blue.html' title='Red, White &amp; Blue'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-6035346423053404698</id><published>2006-10-02T11:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T07:56:26.399-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>In Sickness and in Health...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/5980/911955235579251/1600/Monday,%20October%2002,%202006.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/5980/911955235579251/200/Monday%2C%20October%2002%2C%202006.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My husband and I spent the weekend in Springfield, Ohio, a town about 3 1/2 hours SW of us, to attend the wedding of the son of one of my husband's dearest friends. It was a lovely town in spite of far too many one way streets for a town its size. Our hotel room overlooked a beautiful fountain that sparkled like trickling diamonds at night. Directly across the old brick roadway which surrounded the fountain was a huge building that was constructed in 1890, Springfield's market place and city hall. Made out of brick and sandstone, with a magnificent clock tower that struck on the hour, it was truly a delight to see. Railroad tracks ran along the back of our hotel, tracks that are still in use and the wailing of the train whistle as a train blew through town was charming by day, not quite so charming at 3:00 AM. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This was our first trip since I was diagnosed with MS. Overall it went well, with the exception of my meltdown at the reception and the sensible shoes that wouldn't stay on my feet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When MS is already affecting your gait, you must choose your shoes wisely. I am still able to walk, and when barefoot or wearing flats I can fake a fairly steady walk for short spurts at a time. I chose my shoes for the wedding wisely, or so I thought. They were lovely "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;strappy&lt;/span&gt;" black shoes with a small heel that was wide enough for me to maintain my balance and a heel strap to hold my foot in place. All I can say about those shoes is "What moron designed them and did anyone try to walk in them before they decided to put them on the market?" The point where the heel strap attaches to the strap that goes across the top of your foot on the side that buckles, had nothing to anchor it. It was free-sliding so that when you first put it on, and get everything situated it feels fine. After about ten steps the heel strap starts to slide down the strap that goes across your foot and in a very short while the heel strap falls completely below the heel since there is nothing to hold it on place. It is hard to describe, but trust me when I say they were very poorly designed! I spent most of the night struggling with my shoes which isn't such a good thing when you are already struggling with your emotions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Combine bad shoes, MS and walking, and there was indeed walking involved...much more than there had to be...Cari clears throat and shakes her head at the poor navigational skills of some certain people who will remain nameless...and you get the evening started off on the wrong foot. (Pun fully intended!) I was exhausted before we ever got into the reception hall. We were assigned tables and I intentionally chose a seat which faced away from the dance floor, hoping that if I couldn't see it, it wouldn't make me sad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I held up fairly well through the first part of the reception, although I'm sure I wasn't my normal sassy self. The only walking involved was the buffet line, which to my delight had accommodated those of us who aren't meat-eaters by having vegetarian lasagna on hand. Big points scored for the bride and groom! After the traditional bridal dances were complete the DJ decided to crank it up with The Commodores, Brick House. For me, that was like having a ton of bricks fall down on my head. The realization that I would never be able to "Shake 'my' Groove &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Thang&lt;/span&gt;" on a dance floor again was just more than I could take. I seriously couldn't hold back the tears. To some of you, this may seem trivial. For me, it was like a bomb going off. I swear I could hear ringing in my ears! The tears started to flow and I couldn't get out of there fast enough. My wonderful husband helped me make my way out into a hallway where I actually sobbed over the loss of my "Groove &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Thang&lt;/span&gt;". I felt like a part of me had been ripped up into tiny pieces and carried away by the wind. My Electric Slide has left the building! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There were a few people at the wedding who know what my husband and I are dealing with, but for the most part, the people who saw my hubby and me in the hallway probably just thought we were fighting. This MS has taught me a thing or two. 1. People who are wobbling aren't always drunk! 2. We don't ever know what someone else is dealing with in their lives so we shouldn't be so quick to judge their behaviour. What looked like a lover's quarrel, or me just being a big baby or even a witch was actually me mourning the loss of a part of me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;During the actual wedding ceremony, as the new bride and groom were repeating their vows it once again hit me how very much my husband loves me. He has really had to step it up this last month and has done so with barely a stumble. Those words... for better or worse, in sickness and in health... are not to be taken lightly. In the 24 years we have been together we have had &lt;em&gt;better&lt;/em&gt; and we have had &lt;em&gt;worse&lt;/em&gt;. We have had &lt;em&gt;sickness&lt;/em&gt; and we have had &lt;em&gt;health&lt;/em&gt;. Most of all, in spite of success and failure, in spite of mistakes and accomplishments, we have had love. Big love, once in a lifetime love. Love that completes each other's sentences. Love that tries to shelter the other from pain. Love that after 24 years, still makes my heart skip a beat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-6035346423053404698?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6035346423053404698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=6035346423053404698' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6035346423053404698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6035346423053404698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/in-sickness-and-in-health.html' title='In Sickness and in Health...'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-8606730305885769076</id><published>2006-09-22T07:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T08:05:37.736-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>Corn Pops Therapy</title><content type='html'>Last night I couldn't sleep, again. My brain never seems to be quiet, even when I beg it to shut up! I swear, even when I am not thinking about something specific, there is still a soundtrack playing in my head. As I sit here typing this blog I am required to think, to form sentences and to type them. Even while that necessary thought process is going on, there is still a song playing in my head. It is seriously as if I come with my own built in soundtrack for life. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Today's&lt;/span&gt; song is "Leave the Pieces" by The Wreckers. At least the song finally changed. For three days, the song "Tim &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;McGraw&lt;/span&gt;" by Taylor Swift has been playing in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This internal soundtrack has nothing to do with MS and everything to do with my sleeplessness. I envy people who can easliy turn their brains off to go to sleep. Mine will not shut off. Even when life is at its best, I still struggle with slowing my thoughts down enough to fall asleep. You pile all this MS junk on top of all the stuff that already frolics in my mind, and well, there's your problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being in bed for an hour last night and realizing that sleep was not going to come, I made my way downstairs to my computer room. There is something comforting about the familiar glare of the monitor. I find solace in the process of editing photographs. It keeps my mind from focusing on all the fear and anxiety that this disease has added to my life. It is a fear and anxiety that I am trying hard not to spread to my children. Even though they are adults, I am and always will be, first and foremost, their mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son spends precious little time sleeping. (At least at night.) He works days and probably sleeps only four or five hours a night during the week. He catches up on the weekends. During this past week I have been very thankful for his sleeping patterns. Last weekend we had what we jokingly refer to as our "pajama party". I got out of the bed at 3:30 and kidnapped him from his room and the two of us sat on the living room floor and chatted until almost 6:30 at which time we each ate a bowl of Corn Pops before heading off to bed. My illness scares him. He thinks me invincible and the thought of anything less is hard for him to deal with. He also spoke some wonderful words of wisdom for one so young. He told me that everything is difficult for me right now because it is all new. He says I will adjust to my new limitations and eventually learn to compensate for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, when once again I couldn't sleep he came into the computer room at about 1:30 and asked me if I wanted to have a bowl of Corn Pops. Fast beats my heart... He leaves next week to go away to school. Who will I share Corn Pops therapy with when he is gone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-8606730305885769076?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8606730305885769076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=8606730305885769076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8606730305885769076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8606730305885769076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/corn-pop-therapy.html' title='Corn Pops Therapy'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-2880426558255003777</id><published>2006-09-17T17:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-17T14:19:14.507-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>"Life Ain't Always Beautiful"</title><content type='html'>I really want to be strong about this MS discovery, but once in a while I just have to have a melt down. I am fairly certain it is allowed. Last night I temporarily melted into a puddle, but this morning I am back up and plugging away at it again. Those who love me are still learning to deal with this, same as me. Having me be a crying mess is not something my precious husband is used to seeing and it is probably difficult for him to figure out exactly what to do with me. How can he possibly know when even I don't know what to do with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I joined a Yahoo MS support group and one of the women in the group signs her messages with the quote "I used to have super powers, but my therapist took them away" That accurately describes how I feel. I feel like my super powers, the things that made me "ME", have been stripped away and that I am no longer the me that I knew. I told my husband on the night I was released from the hospital, that I felt like I went into the hospital as one person and came out as another person entirely. Before MS, I could leap tall buildings in a single bound. Now I have to carefully and methodically walk around the perimeter like an ordinary human being, less than an ordinary human being because I don't exactly walk so much as waddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to be ordinary. So this whole MS thing, it's just really not working out for me. I want them to take it back. I want to replay that day, Sept 1, in my mind and change everything about it. I want to sleep late instead of rising early. I want to lay around and eat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Bon-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Bons&lt;/span&gt; all day instead of packing up to go on a photo shoot. I want to yank the words MS out of my doctors mouth and stomp them into the floor. I want to climb up on a step stool with one foot again. I want to be able to dance again! I want to be able to get in my car and go to Target by myself instead of having to drag my reluctant husband along with me. I just want to be me again and this stupid MS won't let me. I have to find a whole new way to define myself. Who wants to do that at 49? I had plans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-2880426558255003777?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2880426558255003777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=2880426558255003777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2880426558255003777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2880426558255003777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/life-aint-always-beautiful.html' title='&quot;Life Ain&apos;t Always Beautiful&quot;'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-8526512288046193418</id><published>2006-09-16T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-16T10:25:23.413-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Me Being Me'/><title type='text'>I Am One Lucky Lady</title><content type='html'>Just when I was down and out. Just when I thought my luck had run out...I win the UK National Lottery. How lucky am I? Wow, now I can get the wheelchair ramp I have always longed for and a brand new tricked-out wheelchair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How stupid do these email nerds really think we are?&lt;br /&gt;I found this in my email today. I'm sorry, but if anyone is actually foolish enough to fall for one of these scams they probably deserve whatever happens to them as a result! The one I received last week &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; asked me to scan my driver's license and send it to them to claim my prize!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE NATIONAL LOTTERY&lt;br /&gt;NOTIFICATION DEPARTMENT&lt;br /&gt;ONLINE &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;SWEEPSTAKE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PROGRAMME&lt;br /&gt;P O BOX 1010LIVERPOOL, L70 1&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;NL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UNITED KINGDOM&lt;br /&gt;(Customer Services)&lt;br /&gt;Ref: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;UKNL&lt;/span&gt;/05/8256/53219/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;QE&lt;/span&gt;327&lt;br /&gt;Batch: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;UKNL&lt;/span&gt;5/A115-07&lt;br /&gt;RE/AWARD BRITISH NOTIFICATION DESK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Lucky Winner, We happily announce to you the new months draw (#994)of the UK NATIONAL LOTTERY, online Sweepstakes International program held on the 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of September, 2006. It is yet to be unclaimed and you are getting the final NOTIFICATION as regards this.Your e-mail address attached to ticket number 55-9-478 with Serial number 1037 drew the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;luckynumbers&lt;/span&gt;: bonus no.04), which subsequently won you the lottery in the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; category i.e match 5 plus bonus. You are therefore been approved to claim a total sum of £1,500,000(o&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;nemillion &lt;/span&gt;five hundred thousand great British pounds sterling)in cash credited to file K&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;TU/&lt;/span&gt;9023118308/03. This is from a total cash prize of £15,000,000 shared amongst the first ten (10) lucky winners in this category i.e. Match 5 plus bonus.All participants for the online version were selected randomly from World Wide Web sites through computer draw system and extracted from over 100,000 unions,associations, and corporate bodies that are listed online. Please note that your lucky winning number falls within our European booklet representative office in Europe as indicated in your play coupon.In view of this, your £1,500,000 (one million five hundred thousand Great Britain pounds sterling) would be released to you by any of our payment offices in Europe. Our European agent will immediately commence the process to facilitate the release of your funds as soon as you contact him.For security reasons,you are advised to keep your winning information confidential till your claims is processed and your money remitted to you in whatever manner you deem fit to claim your prize.This is part of our precautionary measure to avoid double claiming and unwarranted abuse of this program. Please be warned!!!. To file for your claim, please contact your fud&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;iciary ag&lt;/span&gt;ent immediately for verification REV.NOR&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;LAN DA&lt;/span&gt;V&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;IESFOREIGN DE&lt;/span&gt;PARTMENT MAN&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;AGEREWEEK SE&lt;/span&gt;CURITY COMPANY UKC&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;RAWFORD LO&lt;/span&gt;DGE 98A RED&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;CLIFFEGARDENS LO&lt;/span&gt;NDON SW10 9HH,&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt; U&lt;/span&gt;KT&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;EL: +&lt;/span&gt;44-7024078589TEL: +44-7031850204Email:claimsagent_norlan001@yahoo.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations from me and members of staff of THE UK NATIONAL LOTTERY.&lt;br /&gt;Yours faithfully,&lt;br /&gt;Mrs Elizabeth Tyler&lt;br /&gt;Online coordinator for NATIONAL LOTTERY Sweepstakes International Program.&lt;br /&gt;====================================================================Copyright Â© 1994-2006 The UK National Lottery Inc.All rights reserved. Terms of Service - Guideline 77635 476378 255667460&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-8526512288046193418?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8526512288046193418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=8526512288046193418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8526512288046193418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/8526512288046193418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-am-one-lucky-lady.html' title='I Am One Lucky Lady'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-7144969580940408875</id><published>2006-09-11T13:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-16T09:28:59.962-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Smile, You're on Candid Camera!</title><content type='html'>As I look back I have to wonder how many MS symptoms I have had that I have mistakenly attributed to the fact that I am 48 years old and at a ripe old age to begin the "change". How funny that it is referred to as the "change". I think I enjoy typing that. I find it hysterical. Maybe I am just having the MS &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;giddies&lt;/span&gt;, but typing the"change" almost makes me roll on the floor. What exactly are we changing into?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brain has been playing word games with me for some time now. It sort of reminds me of the game Boggle where you get a bunch of random letters and have have an allotted amount of time to make a word out of those letters. In my brain, I am given a bunch of words and each of them mean almost the same thing and somehow I have to figure out which one is best suited to what I am trying to say. I can't always do this, and as a result I may replace the correct word with one that jumped onto the tracks and hijacked my thoughts as the sentence was traveling from my brain to my mouth. In a second scenario, my brain takes two synonyms and changes them into one word. For instance, night + dark = &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;nark&lt;/span&gt;. Yep, in my world &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;nark&lt;/span&gt; is a word and it doesn't mean someone who has ratted you out for the drug paraphernalia hiding under your mattress. (For some odd reason spell check keeps trying to tell me that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;nark&lt;/span&gt; is not a word. Let spellcheck live in my brain for a while and we would have a whole new dictionary.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I asked my cat if he was enjoying his mirror. He is indeed beautiful and he may indeed be vain but he was sitting in a window (big sheet of glass) not sitting in front of a mirror (big sheet of glass).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it is just the "change" (I'm laughing again) that is causing this. I'm not sure. I do know that my very first visible lesion was in my brain and uncomfortably close to the little speech &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;gizmo&lt;/span&gt; up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Big Bang came when the numbness started in my leg. (See Blog Archive for September, &lt;a href="http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/its-amazing-how-quickly-your-entire.html"&gt;It Starts&lt;/a&gt;.) Along with the numbness came a few more details that I failed to mention in &lt;a href="http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/its-amazing-how-quickly-your-entire.html"&gt;It Starts&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a hot bath kind of gal. No shower for me unless it is a very hot day and I have possibly been doing yard work all day or if I am in a big hurry to go somewhere. I really like sinking into a steamy hot bath, stretching out and enjoying it for a while. On the day that I decided I should go to the hospital I had drawn a hot bath for myself. Since I didn't feel great, I could scarcely wait to have that warm water wrap around my body. Due to the position of our bathtub I always step in with my right foot first. My right side was the side with numbness. I had checked the water temperature with my hand as I was filling the tub. It was perfect. Imagine my surprise when I stepped into the bath with my right foot and it felt like I was sticking it into a bucket of ice water! I yanked it back out of there and reached in with my hand again to test the water. It was perfect. I stepped back in and as I lowered myself into the tub my entire right side, up to the top of my ribcage was chilled by the warm water. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone, or like someone was playing a really weird "Smile, You're on Candid Camera" kind of trick on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got out of the tub, the cool air from the room felt as if it were searing my right side. Yep, definitely time to go to the emergency room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While in the hospital I had a few sharp pains behind my left ear, experienced some muffled sound in my left ear and slight tingling in the left side of my face and lip. At this point they had told me they suspected MS but had not confirmed it. This new pain frightened me so I called a nurse. My LPN came in and gently asked if I might be having a panic attack. My first thought was how I am usually good at working my way through stressful situations on my own. I don't use &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; to calm anything and I felt it unlikely that this was a panic attack. It just doesn't fit in with who I am. My next thought was, neither did I know that I had MS and it had been living in my body for a while, so maybe it was a panic attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The LPN didn't seem concerned and yet in my mind I was wondering if all this stuff might have been a stroke. I have a history of high blood pressure, although not very high and yet the word stroke had not been mentioned even one time since I set foot into the hospital. The LPN told me that the RN was busy and that she would be in to speak to me in a while. My pain and muffled ear issues subsided and in a short while the RN came to visit. She was a little older than most of the LPNs and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;RNs&lt;/span&gt; I had come into contact with. She was at least old enough to have a child in college where as most of the nurses were working to pay someone for child daycare. She sat on the edge of my bed in an "I need to tell you something" sort of way and honestly, I don't recall a word she said except for something about Valium and MRI. I finally said to her very bluntly, "They think I have MS" and she said very soothingly as she looked at me with eyes filled with compassion, "I wasn't sure if you had been told the diagnosis". Not suspected DIAGNOSIS, but DIAGNOSIS! Well now, that pretty much summed it up for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a side note: I had at least a week or two before the Big Bang, been experiencing some shivering. Sort of an uncontrollable shiver where your teeth chatter and you feel like you are really nervous about something, but you're not. I thought it was another menopause symptom and began to have new respect for the middle-aged women who reach for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Xanax&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side note #2: After coming home from the hospital and reading a message board for people with MS I found out that a weird internal vibration I had been having periodically for about 6 months is an MS symptom. I had spoken of this vibration to my husband and my sister long before I had an MS diagnosis. I could be sitting in my computer chair and I would just swear I was vibrating. Most of my vibrating was localized to the lower torso and near the groin area. Some of you might think Woo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Hoo&lt;/span&gt;, now that would be fun! But I am here to tell you, it was not. It was creepy. So don't go and get too excited if you have been diagnosed with MS and think you are going to get some freaky fun out of it. You won't!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-7144969580940408875?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7144969580940408875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=7144969580940408875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7144969580940408875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/7144969580940408875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/smile-youre-on-candid-camera.html' title='Smile, You&apos;re on Candid Camera!'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-2928209132007595513</id><published>2006-09-08T23:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T10:27:32.301-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Diagnosis'/><title type='text'>ID, WWF, WWE &amp; M&amp;M</title><content type='html'>Just a side note: You know you have a good sister-in-law when she smuggles peanut M&amp;Ms and bottles of Coca-Cola into the hospital for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to decide why my white blood count is off the charts the powers that be decided to send an Infectious Disease Specialist in to see me. Can you imagine being my roommate and hearing that they are sending an infectious disease guy in to see me. I would be buzzing that bellhop to call the front desk and ask to have my luggage moved immediately but dear Rose just took it in stride. (Another side note...Never judge a 75 year old woman by her choice of television programming. The night I was wheeled into the room Rose was watching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;WWF&lt;/span&gt; which I found out is now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;WWE&lt;/span&gt;. Seems they have changed their name from World Wrestling Federation to World Wrestling Entertainment to emphasize the "entertainment value". I am just going to leave that one alone.) In spite of her television choices she was a delight in her own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;grumbly&lt;/span&gt; way and good for quite a few laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ID doctor decided there was no infectious disease issue which led to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;neuro&lt;/span&gt; doctor deciding to have the lab take blood to grow a few blood cultures. I told them they could take what they wanted, but that all that was going to grow from my blood was sunflowers. I think they probably think I was on the wrong floor of the hospital, if you know what I mean. I also took to drawing things on their write-on, wipe-off memo boards. My last drawing was of a person in scrubs and a nurse's cap with fangs, huge bat wings and a huge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hypodermic&lt;/span&gt; needle tucked under a wing, dripping blood all over the floor. This made even my one stoic no-nonsense &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;HCA&lt;/span&gt; smile. I never actually admitted to being the culprit but it was fairly obvious since I was pretty much the only patient on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;neuro&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;ortho&lt;/span&gt; floor who could walk by myself. I felt like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Weeble&lt;/span&gt;..."&lt;a href="http://www.inthe80s.com/toys/weeble.shtml"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Weebles&lt;/span&gt; wobble, but they don't fall down&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday I rode the V-Bus to MRI land again. This time they injected me with an enhancer so that the lesion in my neck would show up better. My wonderful night nurse had taken out the IV needle the night before because it was making the bone in my hand hurt. As fate would have it, the one time they might have needed to use the IV it was gone, so they just injected the enhancer with a hypodermic needle. No big deal. I had been poked so many times by then that one more certainly didn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late Friday morning my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Neuro&lt;/span&gt; came in to tell me that the MRI of my thoracic spine indeed showed another lesion and that this one enhanced, which I guess tells them it is still active and the culprit that was contributing to all my symptoms. Likely Diagnosis: Multiple Sclerosis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Armed with this information, I was thrown out of the hospital on Friday evening. I still had difficulty walking and they hadn't even decided on a treatment plan for me. You are, I'm sure, aware that the insurance companies know best what a patient needs and mine decided that I needed to go home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-2928209132007595513?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2928209132007595513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=2928209132007595513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2928209132007595513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/2928209132007595513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/id-wwf-wwe-m.html' title='ID, WWF, WWE &amp; M&amp;M'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-6846193815202605198</id><published>2006-09-06T08:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T09:12:45.284-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Diagnosis'/><title type='text'>MRI, or Valium is My New Best Friend</title><content type='html'>On Tuesday afternoon I had my first visit from my neurologist, a really fun guy who hands out Valium if he asks you if you can lie still for 45 minutes and you tell him, "only with drugs". He didn't come bearing the best of news. As of now he says I have symptoms of a classic case of MS. At least I'm a "classic" instead of one of those newfangled models like my vibrating bed. It seems there was something called plaque on my spine that showed in the CAT Scan so now they needed to do an MRI and look at my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am claustrophobic. Not in the same way that my older brother is. The way that makes you rip open elevator doors with your bare hands between floors if it hesitates for even a minute too long, but in an "I need a little air here" sort of way. I may have exaggerated just a bit when telling my doctor about the claustrophobia. I'm sorry, but if he wants to send me on a 45 minute vacation to la la land amidst all this MS insanity I am riding that bus!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neuro also thinks out loud, is confident that he needs to be up front with you about everything (ummm, ignorance is sometimes bliss) and likely amuses himself by making possible MS patients walk an imaginary tightrope with their eyes closed. Hey Doc, I couldn't do that without MS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on the way to my MRI I decided to just pretend I was in a tanning bed. Mind over matter, right? Wrong! They are sneaky, those MRI people. They wheel you in backwards and never really let you see the tunnel you are about to ride in to. They stick ear plugs in your ears, pad the sides of your head to keep it from moving and then lock your head down with a Hannibal Lecter type gadget. They also stick a folded washcloth over your eyes in hopes that not being able to see will help you forget that you are in a tube being attacked by a magnetic jack hammer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love music so I decided to sing songs in my head while I was in there, but the only ones I could remember the words to were nursery rhyme type songs or songs from Sesame Street. "It's not easy being green..." Eventually I began counting. If the voice in my tomb said , OK Carolyn, This one will take about three minutes I would start counting one-one thousand, two-one thousand. I figured if by the time I got to 180-one thousand we hadn't moved on to the next step I would know the guy was lying to me. He wasn't, or I guess he could have been cause it is really hard to do the one-one thousand thing when you have had 15 mg of Valium. And just for the record, halfway through my MRI they decided they should flush out that unused IV again. Are they just bored?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, I made it through the MRI without losing it and was wheeled back to my room. I hope I was really singing those Sesame Street songs in my head and not out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They found an inactive lesion on my brain, a spot that told them that I have unknowingly MAYBE had MS for a while. The guy who read the MRI found something suspicious on my thoracic spine so it looked like I was going on another bus ride to V-Land for another MRI. I figured by the time they were done with all these tests I was either going to glow or stick to the refrigerator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neuro doctor asked if I wanted to see the pictures of my brain. I declined. I had this fear that there were going to be images of Big Bird and Kermit instead of the normal weird squiggly brain matter and I just didn't need to see that. Also, what if it was really small and everything I ever thought about my intelligence level was challenged? No way, I'm not looking at my own brain. Seems like bad karma or Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil Voodoo to me. My husband of course, ran right out to see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-6846193815202605198?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6846193815202605198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=6846193815202605198' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6846193815202605198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6846193815202605198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/mri-or-valium-is-my-new-best-friend.html' title='MRI, or Valium is My New Best Friend'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-559331514875544191</id><published>2006-09-05T07:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T08:07:54.655-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Diagnosis'/><title type='text'>Sleepless in Saint E''s</title><content type='html'>After applying ice and heat to my back all weekend, by Monday we had decided that maybe it was something more. I had spoken to my sister a few times and she expressed concern. I have a history of high blood pressure, although not terribly high, and the word stroke was spoken more than a few times. I eventually called my older brother who has run the gamut when it comes to back pain and asked his opinion. By the end of our conversation he had convinced me that I should go to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gathered things to take to the hospital in the event I should have to stay, and I would like to think I was applying the scout motto, Always be prepared, but in reality I would be horrified if someone else had to go through my "stuff" to try and find what I needed. So I hobbled around, gathering what I felt I would need all the while realizing that my left leg weakness seemed to be increasing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent nine hours in the emergency room. I had an EKG, a CAT scan and a blood letting before they decided I should be admitted for a neurological work up. Before sending me upstairs to a room, my young and nervous ER doctor took the time to beat around the bush about what they suspected from the CAT scan and horrified us in the process. It was very apparent that he wasn't telling everything. As soon as he left the room I commented to Joe that he had scared me to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eventually was moved to a room, but the new $16,000 bed was broken so I had to sit in a chair while they located another bed, wheeled the old one out and brought a new one in. Whoever thought these crazy beds were a good idea needs to be fired! They have a life of their own. Just when you think you are comfortable, the bed decides you aren't and growls and rumbles and rearranges itself, waking you from each and every possibility of sleep. Lets face it, this baby's got "BACK" and in order to accommodate my fluffy butt the bed kept deflating under it until I was sitting on the bed frame. Are all sick people skinny?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eventually ended up trying to sleep with my head at the foot of the bed since it seems the foot section wasn't quite as sensitive as the torso and head sections. Honestly, I was ready to sleep on the floor. I would rather have had the ER gurney than this living, breathing, vibrating bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what made me think I would sleep anyway. Are nurses nocturnal? Do they just not like to see patients sleep? Are there secret cameras? Does a person watch these monitors and announce when one of us looks like we might be falling asleep..."Attention all nurses...Bed 15A is dozing. Quick, go take her blood pressure or maybe just for jollies, why don't you make her get out of the bed so you can weigh her." During the day they might check my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;BP&lt;/span&gt; and take my temperature a few times but at night I swear they must have checked it every two hours. They also felt the need at four o'clock in the morning to wake me to flush out the IV needle they had in my hand that never, the entire time I was in the hospital, actually had an IV hooked up to it. They even went so far as to try and get my roommate up at 3:00 in the morning for an MRI. She pretty much told them where to stick their MRI. She was a trip. (Wherever you are Miss Rose, I hope you are well.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-559331514875544191?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/559331514875544191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=559331514875544191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/559331514875544191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/559331514875544191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/after-applying-ice-and-heat-to-my-back.html' title='Sleepless in Saint E&apos;&apos;s'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7470737289865230172.post-6562038824532494496</id><published>2006-09-03T14:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T09:05:29.128-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In the Beginning'/><title type='text'>It Starts</title><content type='html'>It's amazing how quickly your entire world can change. You wake up one day and realize nothing will ever be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, Sept. 1, 2006 began as any other ordinary day. I am an early riser and this day was no exception. I had a maternity shoot scheduled for the day. By 7:30 I had picked up my son's girlfriend Nicole who was going to help me with the shoot and we were already loading equipment into my car. Before 9:00 my legs began to feel weak, sort of like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rubber bands&lt;/span&gt; and I decided it was probably because I had not eaten anything. Over the course of maybe a year my body has really started fussing at me when I don't eat, giving way to wobbly legs and breaking out in a sweat. Even my mental sharpness would sometimes fade until I took the time to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this particular Friday I assumed that I just needed to eat. My photo shoots are very physical, especially if I use my portable pseudo-studio. I have to load, transport and set up a tent, climb up and down to hang backdrops and set up any props that I am going to use. Add to that the physical aspect of the shoot itself and I get a real workout. I am not much of a tripod user. I am standing on ladders, crawling on the floor...whatever it takes to get the shot I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the day moved forward I just didn't seem to be able to hit my stride. Every shot was an effort. I live and breathe for these shoots and this day it was all such a struggle. By mid-afternoon I decided that I must need to eat again because my legs had not returned to normal. I took a quick break and gobbled down a pack of crackers and a drink. Eventually. I finished the shoot. Nicole and I loaded all the equipment back into my car and headed home. Fortunately my son Joe and Nicole were able to help me unload the car when I arrived home. I took about an hours break and then had to drive the 40 miles to Kent State to get my daughter and then the 40 miles back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;evening&lt;/span&gt; I went to the basement to take a shower and on the way back upstairs I repeatedly banged my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;left big&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;toe&lt;/span&gt; on the risers to the stairs. I can remember thinking I was an idiot but didn't think much more about it. I realized that I was tired. It had been a tough day. At bedtime I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;struggled&lt;/span&gt; to climb the stairs and after crawling into bed I realized that something strange was going on with my right leg. I could feel it if I brushed it lightly, but I couldn't feel pain if I stuck my fingernail in it. I told my husband &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;about&lt;/span&gt; it a few minutes later when he came to bed. We both thought I had possibly aggravated my back while moving equipment that day and we went to sleep none the wiser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus began my journey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7470737289865230172-6562038824532494496?l=carismsjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6562038824532494496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7470737289865230172&amp;postID=6562038824532494496' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6562038824532494496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7470737289865230172/posts/default/6562038824532494496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carismsjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/its-amazing-how-quickly-your-entire.html' title='It Starts'/><author><name>Carolyn (Cari) Foster Spano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337457696823237141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/137845316_edb546bbca_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
