Superpowers for all…

~ myramblings74 ~ 1 Comment

 I have carried this superpower with me all my life, quietly influencing everyone around me. When I was young, I did not know how to control this influential ability. So, to this world of heroism, I was a Neophyte Knight impacting few people. As I got older, like a black hole, I drew more people into my circle of influence making me feel exuberant and kind of powerful. However, On August 13, 2025, at 5 PM my superpowers showed just how expeditiously they evolved.

 

Each day there was a satisfying, antiseptic aroma that permeated everything shouting to the world this area is clean and sanitized. Every waking moment: I found myself under the watchful eyes of two distinct characters. Nurse Nelly ran the hospital floor like a well-oiled machine, her presence commanding respect and efficiency. The staff moved in perfect harmony, like tiny autonomous cogs tidying up after themselves ensuring everything ran seamlessly.

 

Tech Tammy had a heavenly scent of lavender that almost drowned out the ever-present disinfectant with the grace of a seasoned spa therapist she took vitals, helped with meals, and even assisted in bathing— making me feel like I was at a five-star resort. I half-expected her to offer a complimentary foot massage! Of course, a medical tech and a spa therapist are worlds apart, but she still left me feeling pampered.

 

Jasmine, the medical tech on duty, stomped in with a sour-puss expression that could sour milk. After a forced “good evening” she unleashed a tirade about her awful day, as if the universe had dropped a plop on her crop top, and the apocalypse had come early. Her venting had such a bombastic flair it seemed the story might never end.

 

Undeterred by her negativity, I decided to deploy my superpower: my relentlessly positive attitude and a knack for finding humor in any situation. “I totally get it,” I said with a sympathetic nod, “some days are just like that.” Then, with a playful grin, I added, “You know, when I was a kid, we were so poor that if you saw a rainbow in our neighborhood, it was in black and white.” A genuine smile flickered across Jasmine’s face, a welcome change from her earlier scowl. The stress and tension seemed to melt away from her shoulders, and for a moment, she even let out a soft chuckle. I could tell she was starting to enjoy herself, and that was all the encouragement I needed. Then, like a flower opening to the summer sun, her face blossomed into a radiant smile.

 

My lifelong authoritative ability, paired with my smile and cheerful personality, has not only changed minds and attitudes but also helped me make many lasting friends.” For example, in a challenging work situation, my ability to stay positive helped turn around a difficult team dynamic, leading to a more collaborative atmosphere. Over the years, these qualities have helped me forge connections that have enriched my life.

 

This superpower is not mine alone-it is within everyone’s reach. In a world clouded by hate, greed, and corruption, it does not take monumental strength to make a difference. A single act of kindness can ripple outward, sparking a smile and inspiring others to pass it on.

 

So, what is your superpower? Can you influence others with a smile and spread joy to strangers with a joyful attitude? It is a simple act, but its impact is extraordinary.

 

 

 

The wonderful world of… what???

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I woke up many times at about 1 a.m. by my calculations, although a total wild guess would be a better descriptor. The gurney was still extremely uncomfortable as I lay in the hallway waiting for them to take me to my next destination. It felt like they were playing three-card Monte, getting moved so much, hiding me from someone. But who would they hide me from? I spent several hours in this hallway and a few more in that room as they shifted me time and time again like a giant game of whack-a-mole.

Startled from my slumber, they rolled me down the hallway, into an elevator, and onto the fourth floor. I briefly sat in another hallway and was eventually taken into a room where everything looked dated and well-worn. They tried unsuccessfully to make the room look acceptable and presentable. However, the phrase “putting lipstick on a pig” came to mind as I looked around; the room had extreme wear and tear on everything.  I commented on the relatively small television size, which looked like a four-inch TV from 15 feet across the room. She told me it was one of the largest televisions in any hospital room, which made me sad for their patients.

Medical assistant Janet came in first, introducing herself and explaining that she would take my vitals. Minutes later, nurse Cindy had the prescriptions I brought, a few required medications, and still zero information or insights on my illness. It disappointed me that they held firm to the no-information rule they seemed to have, keeping my issues a secret, like who Batman is. Still extremely tired and hungry, I could not think straight to ask the questions and plead for answers they were unwilling to share.

I woke up the first morning when Joe from the kitchen staff brought my breakfast and then quickly turned and left the room. I was starving and ready to tear into even hospital food like a starving badger, as I had not eaten since the previous day’s breakfast. But still paralyzed, I realized I had to wait until someone could help me eat, which devastated my psyche. Even with whatever degree of disability from MS I had dealt with in the past, I could always feed myself independently. Nothing rips away your manhood, dignity, and pride like being spoon-fed Jell-O, like some invalid.

Finally, medical assistant Holly came into my room to take my morning vitals and inform me of the procedures and how-tos. Nurse Heidi entered the room next with the daily regimen of morning medication and vague information and clear-as-mud statements. I requested help to eat since I was paralyzed, and they told me they would act as soon as possible. Several hours later, I remembered scrambled eggs, bacon, and oatmeal were inedible when sold, old and cold. This iced meal was after sitting on the bed table untouched for many hours, getting chilled as I continued to starve, waiting for someone or anyone to help.

On day two, after many hours of extreme boredom, Bill from the kitchen brought the midday meal, which sat taunting me like a mirage to a man in the desert. Next, medical assistant Carol entered my room to take my vitals, asking if I planned to eat, obviously forgetting I could not move my arms. Then, Nurse Sandy entered the room, and I hoped to receive some great wisdom about my ailments and why I was there. Sadly, Sandy gave me no new information, only sharing more vague statements that were made of smoke and mirrors.

Although the medical staff changed every twelve hours and personalities differed each time, the day-to-day life was the same: lame and mundane. So, on the fourth day, I was happy for something different when a wound specialist nurse came in to examine me for bed sores. She found several hotspots where bed sores began forming, so she ordered an air bed delivered that day. This new-age technology would replace my ancient, very used, highly uncomfortable bed and make sleeping almost enjoyable again. Within seven hours of deep slumber on this new air mattress, I was no longer paralyzed and happy as a clam. First, I needed clarification about what had happened but received no information.

This three-day time period of paralyzation required help for everything, and this deeply devastated my dignity. But, this time frame also let me see how some people can have extreme care for their fellow man, and others show a lack of common human decency. In the medical field, you should give up the need to always be right and the courage to say you are not the most intelligent person in the room. I never want to see another September 11th, but I would love to experience another September 12th. Unity, kindness, and compassion shined through that day, which is something humanity desperately needs.

Kindness and compassion, not critiques or condemnation

Scott Cremeans lives in Central Florida. He is a US Marine diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2001 at 27. Scott has successfully managed his MS symptoms independently with his faith, friends, and funnies. You can read more about his MS journey by visiting his blog, http://www.mymsramblings.com, where he muses about life in the slow lane with his literary wit. 

I understate, not exaggerate…

~ myramblings74 ~ 1 Comment

I wrote this blog approximately five years ago while going through weird MS issues. I was also having difficulty getting in and out of bed, so I thought this might give a peek into what I was experiencing. There are detailed examples of disabled life to allow you to practice and comprehend what I and many others deal with daily. I hope that when people read this, they realize that perception and attitude are essential for everything. By the way, I went a little heavy on the rhyming and alliteration at this time in my life.

I understate, not exaggerate…

Disclaimer alert: I have visited the darkness, stood on the ledge, and peered over, questioning everything, deciding if I wanted to continue on this road called life. After coming back from looking into the eyes of the Ender, I chose never to question things the same again. I say that to say this: my struggles may be daily and seemingly endless, yet my attitude reminds me that every moment’s misery is a choice. In this blog, I discuss these situations light-heartedly, yet do not mistake my jovial attitude as total ignorance towards the challenges of my life. I am not saying my life is more complicated or even more straightforward than anyone else’s; we all have difficulties, but they are all different. Lastly, do not look at a person with MS or any medical condition on a TV show or movie and think it is accurate because it is not.

People periodically pose a perplexing query to me. Occasionally, others say I exaggerate my blogs to be more impactful and wonder what MS is like. These periodic prods from people primarily push me to clarify the facts of how MS affects me. My life as an MSer is complicated to describe because you will not understand it unless you have lived it. Even others who use wheelchairs or have multiple sclerosis may not understand one hundred percent because our chariots are all built differently, and our needs vary drastically. So, let me share one seemingly simple stint of life, which, for most, takes only a few minutes yet becomes a laborious job for me.  On average, it will swiftly switch into a daunting daily duty that can take me nearly one hour. 

I wake up and do not hit the snooze button because my mom taught me when I was young that sleeping in is burning daylight, so I get up. I wake up on the left side of my bed, and to get out of bed, it is a wrestling match of Epic Proportion. Sadly, before I even move, my legs go into a stiff spasm tighter than the core of a baseball. I know how to massage it out to stop hurting, but the spasm stiffens my entire body, so I cannot bend it and must painfully wait it out.

My next challenge is to rotate myself counterclockwise ninety degrees so my feet dangle over the edge of the bed. Any movement is made more arduous by my leg muscles, which constantly play a movement game. Roulette is the game name, and torturing Scott is how it reins the same lame game. As I twist and turn, I grab the bed sheets, pull towards the foot of my bed, and continue the leg wrestling with myself. While I try to scuffle and shuffle on my bed ruffle, my leg muscles take turns tightening in opposing directions, causing various problems with my every movement. 

When my quadriceps muscles take their turn, they shoot my legs straight out and stiffen them like I am in a planking competition. I never make any movement quickly, and now it is my hamstring muscles that tighten as I sit up on the edge of the bed. This muscle tightening pulled my legs in instead of out, causing problems. This game between my leg muscles pushing out and pulling in means I only have a few seconds to expect the next shift. I quickly get proper pad placement and positioning and prepare for my posterior propulsion. I massage my thigh muscles to keep them from spasming for a few minutes as I prepare for my lift and shift. After several additional minutes, I can drop my derriere directly onto my wheelchair seat.

All this maneuvering so far has only taken thirty minutes and has moved pretty smoothly, all things considered. So, let me stop for the interactive part of the show. Imagine you went out to dinner with some friends and had some food that did not agree with you. When you get up to rush to the bathroom, the previous scene keeps you from quickly getting to where you need to go. Could you make it to the toilet, or do you have to do a sixty-minute clean-up part of your morning? Some of us do not have the luxury of deciding as it is chosen for us. And it is never the easier path.

Next Interactive part. To prepare for bed, you must take off your day clothes and put on your PJs. First, sit on a high-back chair and try to remove your clothes without standing or getting assistance from your legs. Then, after you remove them, put on your PJs while continuing to sit without the aid of your legs. For many wheelchair users, this is an easy task, yet for some of us, it is not.

It is difficult to clean up a big mess when you are in a wheelchair. Let me clarify: when you are in a wheelchair and live alone, every mishap is a major mess. For example, the other day, I planned to scramble a couple of eggs and microwave them when I dropped the mug, and raw eggs crashed to the floor. It took me over half an hour to clean up what I could, yet sadly, most of it stayed on the floor for several days until help arrived.

My friends and family are few and far between, but they can attest that I do not discuss this kind of stuff with them. I only talk about things if I can make a joke out of it and make light of any situation. I never want to be seen as the constant complainer playing the woe-is-me card or even looking for pity, making people want to avoid me. Life is ever-changing, and life with a medical condition endlessly evolves like the numbers on the stock market.  

Disappointments are inevitable, but misery is optional. 

Scott Cremeans lives in Central Florida. He is a US Marine who was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2001 at 27. Scott has managed his MS symptoms independently with his faith, friends, and funnies. You can read more about his MS journey by visiting his blog, http://www.mymsramblings.com, where he muses about life in the slow lane with his literary wit.

Goodbye, Norma Jean swim team…

~ myramblings74 ~ 1 Comment

This pandemic affected me in various ways, negatively affecting my daily life. The medical emergency forced us into isolation and did not allow me to continue swimming, so I got weaker. Prior to the catastrophic calamity that isolated us, I swam two to three hours a day, three days a week. Every time we conducted strength testing, my doctor would express astonishment at my level of strength. 

I started swimming ten years before coming to Florida, although it was baby steps for the first five years. For that first half-decade, I attempted to grow stronger by moving my legs against the resistance of the water. In Year Eight, my new instructor taught me to swim without using my legs. It was a snail’s pace, but it was still movement. My tenacity helped build my muscles and endurance, making it all but essential to swim for nine hours a week and become highly comfortable in the pool. In fact, I was so relaxed in the water that I carefully considered kayaking as a new hobby.

Two months later, I was checking out programs on the Multiple Sclerosis Association of America website. They had an upcoming swimming fundraiser involving laps or a cannonball, which intrigued me, as I thought I could do this. Initially, I contemplated doing a mile until I reasoned that three or four miles would be more impressive. I went to class the next day and vociferously verbalized my intentions so everyone could hold me accountable.

I explained how I was unsure of my planned distance; I just knew I wanted to accomplish a swim for distance and raise money. Initially, I swam five laps a day until I became stronger and swam twenty-five in a three-hour window. The more muscles I grew, the more I was sure I could swim the longer three or four miles. I was fearful of one thing: my multiple sclerosis exhaustion issue, as I knew I could not ignore or hide that. 

The plan was simple yet undefinable as I was not sure how much swimming my multiple sclerosis would allow me to do. I had heard of various races that lasted several days, so I aimed to swim as far as possible for fourteen days. I used a sports clicker to track the number of laps I swam. The aquatic director told me how far the lap length was in each pool area I swam. I was terrifyingly optimistic about race day, approaching much sooner than I thought.

When I arrived at the Community Center pool on day one, terror played my nerves like a heavy metal guitarist. We took some pictures for posterity, as I planned to show everyone how healthy I looked before the swim. I took one last long look over the pool as if it was my fiefdom and I was the emperor, although I did not have the power of a king. I knew I had a grand agenda, so it was time to put my big boy swim trunks on and start the breaststroke.

So, for the next fourteen days, I immediately began swimming every morning, attempting to achieve more distance whenever possible. As my numbers grew, I rested a little less and swam a little more, trying to squeeze out extra laps. On day eight, I realized I may have reached five miles and was extremely excited about this potential outcome. However, I was absolutely astonished when the final tally came in, as I had swum an amazingly astounding eight miles over a fourteen-day time frame. 

Yes, I am a U.S. Marine, and I am pretty proud of that fact, but this swim and the 5K I did years prior while disabled are moments of great pride for me. I will forever remember these achievements until I am old and Gray, living in a nursing home, slinging my oatmeal on the walls. Sadly, I should have exercised during the pandemic, but it is challenging to exercise on land, as I must fight gravity. Unfortunately, I will no longer be a swimmer without extreme help and a significant amount of time.

My search begins now for a new form of exercise to benefit my cardiovascular system, muscles, mental agility, and overall well-being. For this scavenger hunt, at the top of my list of possibly new fitness tools, a hand-cycle sits perched on the edge of my mind. The Veterans Administration has spoken to me about hand-cycles and how they would help me get fitted adequately for this mighty mechanical mechanism. There is a lot to know about hand cycling, so I have a lot of research to do. Not to mention, there are a few other ideas I must research that are rolling around my brain like marbles in a tin can.

The only constant in life is change.

Scott Cremeans lives in Central Florida. He is a US Marine diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2001 at 27. Scott has successfully managed his MS symptoms independently with his faith, friends, and funnies. You can read more about his MS journey by visiting his blog, http://www.mymsramblings.com, where he muses about life in the slow lane with his literary wit.

Gratitude with gusto…

~ myramblings74 ~ Leave a comment

The following writing is another letter that I am sharing with you because it shows my writing and how it always stays the same. It was written to the saleswoman…er, uh… the salesperson who helped me attain my vehicle. I hope you read my words and descriptions and can understand my excitement and gratitude for this van. So please read and enjoy my writing, as I have more to come.

Dear Savannah,

Thank you massively for your hard work in helping acquire my wheelchair-accessible 2024 Toyota Sienna minivan. I have a capacious appreciation in my heart for your patience with me and for putting up with the VA, as well. There was a deep distrust, and I all but called you a liar initially in my head until I decided to trust you. You did not disappoint me. Receiving this vehicle allowed me to break the bonds of bleak boredom, venture back into society, and mingle with the masses.

Although I am curious how far we traveled, we drove nearly every day the first week after you delivered the van. It felt as if our trips were miles and miles long; in actuality, they were not even close and quite comfortable. We also thought the gas gauge was malfunctioning as it never showed a fuel loss, and that is when I praised engineers and their hybrid engines. I later learned from YouTube that hybrid engines use mostly electric power on local roads and internal combustion engines on highways. So, I was extremely excited when I realized this vehicle would be sipping and not gulping gas greatly.

Although the trip to your shop to acquire the needed measurements took about an hour, the drive felt brief. You are an excellent conversationalist, which made me feel more comfortable. The trip also seemed shorter. I want to share the accolades: All the staff I interacted with within your company were perfectly positive people, making my experience great. Once again, thank you for working with me on everything. Rest assured, I will share your company contact info with others seeking transportation.

Scott Cremeans

Unfortunately, I did not get a vehicle I could drive myself because I do not trust my hand-eye coordination or strength, which fluctuates. In this situation, I must train everyone who drives the van to strap me securely into the vehicle. We have been driving my new set of wheels for approximately a month and have only used a quarter tank of gas. I want to send a big thank you to the engineers for creating hybrid engines. You need to realize how essential it is for your mental well-being to get out of your house and interact with society. Although truth be told, interacting with humanity is indeed a double-edged sword.

Looking for adventure in whatever comes our way-Steppenwolf

Scott Cremeans lives in Central Florida. He is a US Marine diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2001 at 27. Scott has successfully managed his MS symptoms independently with his faith, friends, and funnies. You can read more about his MS journey by visiting his blog, http://www.mymsramblings.com, where he muses about life in the slow lane with his literary wit.

Life is like a box of chocolates….

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You need to know that I am sharing this writing not for sympathy or to make you feel sorry for me. I am sharing these letters because they are my writing. I sometimes struggle to find things to write about, so I came up with these. The following is a victim impact statement letter that I wrote and sent to the judge, hoping to do my part. I also changed the names to protect the innocent and the cantankerous criminal.

Your honor:

My name is Scott Cremeans, and I am a disabled veteran with multiple sclerosis diagnosed in October 2001. Except for my Marine Corps years, I lived in Ohio all my life, yet because of MS, my friends disappeared like an ice cube on a July sidewalk. Due to my MS, I have had a plethora of physical challenges, yet I still quickly made friends and became a particularly positive person. Moving to Florida has been great for my psyche, and the Floridian people have been amazing. I use a wheelchair, which can hamper having fun, but they still have treated me very well.

I am writing this letter to you with a heavy heart, as I dislike disparaging, disrespecting, or devaluing my fellow man. We all have difficult moments that may cause us to act inappropriately, irresponsibly, or ignorantly, negatively affecting others. Unfortunately, I ask that you not release Gilligan from jail too soon. He is manipulative, violent, a general menace to society, and has gone too far. To maximize manipulation, he told me several times he was on the organ waiting list, which his mother said Gilligan was not, as he drinks excessively. Let me give you a few examples of why Mr. Gilligan is bad and needs therapy, counseling, and anything else to change his attitude.

While in a restaurant with Devin, Marianne, and Gilligan, unprovoked, Gilligan began vociferously assaulting Devin and me. Gilligan was so loud that a shift manager told us he needed to quiet down because they could hear us on the other side. Even though I was attempting to de-escalate the situation, Gilligan physically assaulted me by trying to choke me. Another time, Gilligan barged into my house uninvited and aggressively pushed me aside to talk with my guest, Devin. The common question is, do I fear for my life? I am sorry, but boot camp beat the fear out of me long ago. I am not in fear of my life, but I am fearful of the plethora of others that Gilligan can injure.

Scott Cremeans

They told me later that Gilligan’s mother was telling people that her son was not a criminal and that he would not hurt a fly. Of course, this was after Gilligan battered his mother and father, according to the police report, and the police showed up and took Gilligan to jail. In my book, if you attack people like the disabled, older adults, or your parents, you become a criminal, and the police will take you to jail, just like what happened to Gilligan. Only time will tell if I see any retaliation for my honesty in this blog, even though I used no real names except for my own.

If you are man enough to do the crime, then you are man enough to do your time.

Scott Cremeans lives in Central Florida. He is a US Marine diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2001 at 27. Scott has successfully managed his MS symptoms independently with his faith, friends, and funnies. You can read more about his MS journey by visiting his blog, http://www.mymsramblings.com, where he muses about life in the slow lane with his literary wit.

Start spreading the news…

~ myramblings74 ~ 4 Comments

Who wrote letters to three people in various places. I am going to share them like A blog because they are still my writing. I enjoy writing and thought this would be good to share.

A few weeks ago, I thought contacting Brianna’s boss would be a good idea, as she does not know how things are. The caregivers work alone with each client, and their supervisor rarely asks the client for their opinion of the employee. Brianna’s supervisor, office workers, and I initially had trouble ensuring that they would prioritize my needs first. However, after the dust settled, I rarely spoke with them as there was never a need for a restitution solution.

Hey Paula,

As long as I have been in Florida, I have used your company and thought it was time to reach out. It is always good to know the facts in life, and I wanted to share some answers to questions that you may have. First, I am a writer and a Blogger who has been published in a national magazine ten times (100% true). I am not trying to be arrogantly braggy, but I am letting you know this message is informative and hopefully somewhat entertaining. If I wanted to brag, I would mention my Pulitzer Emmy and Peabody awards, but this email is about Brianna and not my fake news.

I have worked with Brianna the entire time I have been here and have been extremely happy with her work. People periodically pose a query, questioning why I like to work with her after hearing our beginning was not as smooth as it is now. OK, fine, only two individuals have made this inquiry in two years, yet that is not the point, and they still pose the query. I assumed if people were asking me this question, you, her boss, might also be curious about the answer.

About a year ago, I published a blog discussing the five most influential and beneficial people in my Florida life. By the way, I only have approximately 67,000 followers and am always trying to gain more, so please follow my blog. Below, I have included the paragraph about Brianna in that specific entry, although I never use real names. I like working with Brianna because even when the day is not going well, she moves like a chipmunk on Red Bull and gets things done.

“Brianna is my Personal Aide who assists me with everything and always has a smile and a positive attitude, even in unpleasant situations. I often tell people she is a wonderful work wife who should wear a superwoman uniform because she is fantastic and a lifesaver. Brianna works weekdays for five hours, and upon her arrival, everything needs doing, yet when leaving, everything is complete. Constantly moving like a Mako shark, when she stops to rest, you can put a clock on it as within 90 seconds, she is up doing more. Brianna has undebatable, inexplicable, and unfathomable abilities, and her existence in my life is irreplaceable. She is the person I see the most in an average week, and if you think I am exaggerating excessively, then you do not understand. While yes, some are for comedic and dramatic effects, the truth is that the rest of my days are impossible without her twenty-five hours of work each week.”

I appreciate Brianna because she does enough to be extremely helpful but also allows me to struggle and attempt to do things myself. The truth is that Brianna moves expeditiously like the wings of a hummingbird after a triple shot of espresso. Although I have worked with not great caregivers, I will not disparage, disrespect, or devalue those I have worked with. However, my final thought is that of all the caregivers I have worked with, no one is as good as Brianna has been.

Scott

Every caregiver sits silently on a sliding scale between good and not-so-good assisting helpfulness levels. This predicament means it is essential for you to determine how much of the bad you are willing to accept in exchange for their good side. We can and should follow these steps in various situations, including finding friends.

I have worked with Brianna, my personal aid, caregiver, or whatever other name, for nearly two years. She is now with me thirty-one hours per week and can take me anywhere I need to go, including doctor’s appointments and the like. This woman has made herself indispensable in my life, telling me that when her time with me concludes, life will be devastating for a while. Although a writer, I cannot conjure up the correct words to truly convey how much I appreciate and value Brianna.

Good caregivers care continuously.

Scott Cremeans lives in Central Florida. He is a US Marine diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2001 at 27. Scott has successfully managed his MS symptoms independently with his faith, friends, and funnies. You can read more about his MS journey by visiting his blog, http://www.mymsramblings.com, where he muses about life in the slow lane with his literary wit.

Lurking devil in the darkness…

~ myramblings74 ~ 1 Comment

Did you know that 988 is the phone number of the suicide and crisis hotline, so call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org/chat. I recently learned that some of my readers struggle with issues and demons I fought with years ago. We all understand if individuals are battling beasts in the open, then others are raging wars alone in the shadows. I want you all to know that you are not alone on this battlefield, and I hope to say the correct words to help. I have been to the edge and pondered that prolific plunge, yet came back stronger and wiser, remaining on the green side of the grass. Friends and family make a difference, but it takes speaking up to enact change and recovery. For many avenues of help, you need to reach out and start the conversation.

I went through many years of a deep, dark depression that tried to encourage me to visit and leap from the ledge. This game between darkness and light stole my thirties, never to return them as time only progresses and never regresses. The onslaught occurred as the angel and devil on either shoulder taunted me ruthlessly. Although this atrocity was a lengthy war, the deadly battle did not reach the dark side’s desired conclusion. The following helped and continues to help me, and I hope others can learn from my time in perdition and reentry into society.

I have met people with families who are as useless as waterproof beach towels, and to them, I say learn your Facebook options. Do not be someone with two thousand Facebook friends you do not know or talk with most of them. Instead, go to your FB timeline and post that you are struggling and need to speak with someone, as many good people will talk. I am optimistic that you will receive a helpful response quickly, but do not stop there and request a private conversation with them.

You can join Facebook groups for whatever you can imagine and post looking for someone to talk with privately too. As a member of fifteen groups primarily focused on multiple sclerosis, I learned that 75% of MS patients are women. So three of the groups are men’s groups which get together twice weekly to video chat. If one gentleman is having a dreadfully difficult day, everyone will listen to that person, as many times, compassionate ears are all they need. With these Facebook clubs, camaraderie is crucial, and fellowship is fundamental, while everything is essential for the well-being of all involved.

To help with brain balance, you must overload your brain with enthusiastic endorphins. These positive peptides resemble opiates in the brain and raise the pain threshold. This action significantly and positively affects one’s mental agility, benefiting the overall outlook on life. Friendships are a great way to boost your endorphins to aid your cognitive modulation. For me, it started slowly, with one friend who reintroduced me to the art of socialization. He would visit my house once per week until he eventually enticed me to venture into public with offers of savory sustenance. Of course, I still felt shame, but my new buddy did not back down from the challenge of encouraging me to open up to the possibilities of life.

Laughing is another way to boost and induce more of the body’s positive mind manipulators. Eventually, I made more friends, which helped me remember how to laugh and enjoy life. Good friends can encourage your tear ducts to dump buckets of face-drenching tears as you pound on the table and cry out with laughter. These new compadres helped me make fun of this arguing devil and angel and see the humor in everything. This idea was helpful to me, as I could then forget about all of my sorrows and past while focusing on my new friends and positive life outlook.

Exercise and meditation can also help your mental wellness, as they did and continue to do for me. For those of us with MS, there can be a fine line between doing too much and not enough exercise. What is worse is that this line bounces like a caffeinated Chihuahua on a pogo stick, rarely staying in the same place. Meditation helped me to guide my mental monsters out of my brain while organizing my thoughts. The practice of this quiet rumination can be challenging, especially for those of us with busy brain syndrome. The key for both is to simply stay the course.

Here is the deal: I am not a therapist, nor do I play one on TV, but this is my opinion as a survivor of dreadful thoughts. I know that life’s challenges and struggles can cause a powerful depression that can envelop your existence. I understand that depression is different for everyone, and every person deals with it differently. However, I feel that one of the most critical factors in healing and recovery from depression is communication. Discuss your issues with family, talk with friends, or communicate with teachers, but most importantly, do not leave loved ones in the dark.

988 is the suicide and crisis hotline.

And the truth, shall set you free!!!

~ myramblings74 ~ 2 Comments

I share the true stories of my MS life with any person perusing my papers to show how in life I deal with the good, bad, or ugly. I want people to see that no matter their concerns, bad news medically, or just a person in a mood of constant negativity, we will make it together. My hope is that when people read my words, they feel encouragement and inspiration slathered with a thick, meaty layer of hope. They should gain the confidence to stand with their heads held high and understand they are not alone in their difficulties.

I never want my writing to sound boastful or braggadocious when I share positive stories about gifts I receive. Some have said that I share too much, but the anonymity of the Internet and my belief that no one is concerned about me say they are incorrect. I do not have secrets about my MS life, as I have shared my most embarrassing moments, and people overlooked and disregarded them. When discussing my life, the good comes with the bad, while personality, attitude, and perception make the difference, along with a dash of self-deprecation.

I told everyone how for me to move to Florida, the planets and moon aligned perfectly, while the administration of veterans helped significantly. This perfect planetary positioning has continued as I have begun receiving help in various ways, such as grants and various programs. I lived here for the first ten months with very little assistance, yet when the floodgates of aid opened, it began a torrential downpour of help. Although they are the roadblocks of the Veterans Administration, I am forced to dance across a red tape tightrope like a ballerina on opening night.

In Ohio, I often went two weeks without seeing another human, making me depressingly lonely and bored, with no way to ameliorate my unhappiness. Life moved very slowly at the time, so having more than one doctor’s appointment in a week was a rarity, let alone several in a day, like in Florida. Because I avoided the snow and cold, I clustered my appointments in late spring or early summer, avoiding the worst weather. My time in Ohio was an extremely melancholy existence filled with isolation, desolation, and starvation from human interaction.

Although the Veterans Administration is paying to have my house remodeled and helping me attain an accessible vehicle, there is a ton of work for me. There is a shocking amount of work for veterans to do their part in this accessible rehabilitation reconstruction request. As these rules change frequently and get shared rarely, keeping up by shucking and jiving while following the rules as best as possible is a laborious task. What makes things even more complicated is that the rules for all programs differ and rarely concur with each other.

So, as I sit here in Florida, there is an exhausting tug-of-war going on in my brain between not doing enough and doing too much. I lived for so long in Ohio with nothing to do. I am in my new home with five times the amount of work, making me intensely overwhelmed. Not yet have I been able to organize all my medical appointments and set them into an annual routine for convenient consistency. Depleted, drained, and weakened, and though difficult, I must carry on completing the remodeled remodification.

I say all of that to share this: I divided my time between very few things in Ohio, and the only thing I worked on was my blog. Although I ate three meals a day, nothing used up my time more than my writing as I put pen to paper ten hours every fifteen-hour day. Because of my excessive writing, I posted a blog once per week, although the quality lacked quite a bit of pizzazz. However, that was then, and now, it is a whole new ball game in Florida where there is much more to do and take up my time.

I am now in my new home state of Florida, where a smorgasbord of tasks begs my attention, pulling me away from my writing. A plethora of duties monopolizes my day, minimizing the time I can write each day. I genuinely enjoy every aspect of my writing process, so I will continue to write, but my writing may not be as good and punctual, or I am just my own worst critic. However, I am still considering writing a book. Although the idea is rolling around in my head, it is ambiguous and murky at best, so we will see what the future holds.

These times, they are a changin’

Conquering chaos…

~ myramblings74 ~ 2 Comments

It is essential to stay organized in this world where chaos confounds everyday life, challenging our existence. Keeping a list of your doodads and do hickeys diligently divided is beneficial so you can reach them instantly when needed. The intelligent choice is keeping your widgets and digits stacked neatly for quick, convenient contemplation. In addition, having your entire calendar of events prominently posted for your perfunctory perusal should be a requirement.

As a 22-year veteran of multiple sclerosis, I like to control my cognitive concerns as senility runs on my sister’s side of the family. However, things have changed since I began using technology to aid my memory and simplistic systematization. I was old school in the early days, and my house showed it as I coated everything in a thick yellow layer of Post-it notes. These bright inked jots would give me notice for mundane tasks ahead, like eating and brushing my teeth and many other ridiculously rudimentary reminders.

There is now so much technology to help you stay organized that excuses have gone with the dodo bird. 3.48 million Applications exist in the Android Play Store, and 2.22 million apps reside in the Apple App Store, reminding us there are many apps for that. These application operations can assist, remind, play games, or even tell you when to throw old apps out the window. Gone is the day of tying a string around your finger to remind you of a task you inevitably forget. Writing a to-do list on paper that eventually falls to the floor and gets lost in the trash of modernity is superfluous.

Devices like smartphones, computers, and smartwatches make it impossible to stay unorganized. MSers and most people must find what works best to keep our lives formulated and coordinated to avoid confusion and chaotic clutter. Multiple sclerosis causes plenty of brain cloudiness from shoddy short-term memory, like trying to use an old computer from a junkyard. Simplify your life using apps to manage finances, schedules, and more. The benefits are plentiful, as the possibilities are endless.

With organization comes empowerment.