another reason to love ocrevus

One thing I forgot to mention from when I spoke to the MS Nurse recently. She effectively said that Ocrevus was the reason why I'd got all of these infections. 

I've written in the past about how effective it is as an immunosuppressant, stamping down on my immune response for up to six months following each infusion. Previously this has caused me to delay having Covid vaccines and my annual flu jab, simply because Ocrevus is so good at its job. There's no point in having a vaccine when your body is unable to provide an immune response. 

But does this also mean that in the future I'm going to be leaving myself open to every single virus that's going around? At a time when years of social distancing means that nobody has built up any immunity? 

I can't help feeling - yet again - that I wish I'd not had to move to Ocrevus. It's almost like the drug exists to keep me weak and isolated. Previously when I was on Tysabri I was actually pretty healthy. I never really caught anything that was doing the rounds. Plus it was easier to fit vaccines around my infusions. 

Now every time I have an infusion I need to socially distance for a month, according to a note I was given in October (at the end of my first full infusion!).

But really, what are my options? I can't go back to Tysabri because of my rising JC Virus count. And as far as I can tell, Ocrevus is my last option as far as medication is concerned. 

I've heard that changing to a medication with lower efficacy has been shown to increase disability. So is Ocrevus really the last horse in town?

Ocrelizumab: The Mighty Immunosuppressor

picture borrowed from https://www.gene.com/media/product-information/ocrevus - not entirely sure what it means but it looks cool

You may remember, way back before the dawn of history, when I had my initial two half-doses of Ocrevus. That would have been November 2021. 

Ocrevus (ocrelizumab) is thought to be one of the most effective DMTs. And it's quite appealing because, rather than being a daily / thrice-weekly injection, or a twice-a-day pill, or a monthly infusion, it's delivered through an infusion every six months. 

Well, as I write this, in September 2022, I'm potentially on the cusp of maybe having my first full dose. Ten months later. 

Here's the science bit. 

Ocrevus is an immunosuppressant. The good science behind this is MS is a disease where the immune system gets a bit confused and starts to attack itself, primarily the protective sheath (myelin) that covers the nerves in the body, as well as breaching the blood-brain barrier (which leads to scarring on the brain).

So it makes total sense to basically get the immune system to sit down, take a stress pill, and calm the fcuk down. 

Well, it turns out that Ocrevus is really good at its job. So good in fact that I've basically not had a fully-functioning immune system all year. Here's a quote from a recent letter from my MS Nurse.

Ocrelizumab reduces the number of particular cells of the immune system responsible for producing antibodies. Individuals receiving ocrelizumab do not seem to produce enough antibodies in response to COVID-19 vaccination which increases their risk of infection.

Because COVID hasn't gone away (despite what some people say), my medical team and I wanted to make sure I get my fourth dose (plus my flu jab) before I let loose the Mighty Immunosuppressor. 

After three blood tests at the hospital, my immune cell count has gone from 0.4 to 4.12. So I'm now able to get my next dose of COVID vaccine, followed by my winter flu jab, and then potentially my first full infusion. 

Maybe. 

Why any doubt? Well before I have my COVID vaccine, I need to do an antibody test. Then on the day of my infusion, I'll do another at the hospital. And I guess that my infusion will only go ahead if my numbers are correct. 

I am very glad that I have a medical team that is looking out for me.

But it's times like these that I really bloody miss my regular Tysabri infusions.

i was looking for a jab and then i found a jab...

... and heaven knows I feel CRAP today.

So yesterday I finally got my third COVID vaccine. It has been a LONG ASS time coming.

As a reminder, I had my second dose in May 2011. Then a few months later I caught COVID, just about the time my Neurologist recommended that I change from Tysabri to Ocrevus. After having my first two half-doses in November, I then had to sit tight before I could get another vaccine.

Until yesterday - oh, happy day.

The vaccine centre was a lot quieter than the last time I went. Because it's all over now, right? Or at the very least, we're in a place where we're all okay with over 100 people dying unnecessarily every single day, just because some people found that wearing a mask made their face a bit hurty.

The thing that remaned was the pride that the people who were working and volunteering there still clearly felt. Plus how pissed off they are that the UK government has basically washed its hands of them.

It took a while for us all to unpick what my MS Nurse was recommending for me - the letter I had was pretty confusing about whether it was a third dose or a booster. But eventually we went for a third full dose.

It was all good but today I feel like I've been run over. Bleeurgh.

Beats the hell out of getting COVID, obviously.

Please donate to the Disasters Emergency Committee.

news from elsewhere

The state of the world (destination: hell in a handcart) means that trying to keep up with a blog just seems a little bit... pointless.

Even if I chose to comment on *all of the stuff* (a task for which I am woefully inadequate), the shit show is changing so rapidly that, if I managed to think of anything salient to write, it would likely be out of date by the time I hit publish.

And all the whining about MS just seems so petty - I have a home and my family is safe and we aren't being bombed indiscriminately. 

All that being said, I do have some things I want to publish. But please be aware that I know that this is all very small beans.

Please donate to the Disasters Emergency Committee.

cleaning out my closet

This post has been sitting on my phone for absolutely AGES. After I started writing it, time became... both elastic and static. Lots has happened but nothing has happened. More to come (hopefully?) soon...

---

Well. Because simply everyone (err… SwissLet) was asking, here's an update. 

A couple of days after posting the last blog, I called the MS Trust's advice line. I thought about calling my MS nurse back but I thought I'd get yer classic second opinion, about Ocrevus and the COVID vaccine.

I thought my question was a bit too specific but the woman who I spoke to was brilliant. She knew exactly where I was coming from and also knew where my MS team was coming from. She said that they were right to be careful - which strangely made me feel a lot happier. Same result either way. 

I ended up watching my grandmother's funeral over Zoom. As anyone who has had to do this will know, it's better than nothing. But up until that point I was ok about not being there. Watching it from a distance, although the right thing to do, was really upsetting. I imagine it's the same for everyone who has had to do this. There's a reason why we have funerals. And to this day, it all feels a bit like unfinished business. Which is strange, because like I said earlier, I hadn't seen her properly for a long time. 

Christmas was fine. Everyone in our family understood, so they all did Lateral Flow Tests before we saw them and wore masks, at least for a little while. It was a good Christmas.

---

I mean, was that even worth the wait?

between a rock and a shit place

And speaking of crap gaps… This has been so long coming that I've actually had my first two half doses of Ocrevus by now. NEWS FLASH: I'm not dead.

In fact, each time I've had an infusion, I've tried to write a post. But for one reason or another, they've remained unpublished. So what scintillating titbits have ended up on the cutting room floor?

1. The support acts for the headliner Ocrevus (also known as the pre-meds) are a regular case of the old push-me-pull-you. Intravenous antihistamines knock you out, and then a dose of Steroids picks you up. And obviously, mean that sleep is hard to find that evening. Doesn't really explain how I managed to forget the main side-effect of steroids up until the night of my second half-dose, however…
2. People can be really annoying. Yes, even people with MS. We aren't all saints, y'know.
3. Related to this, noise-cancelling headphones are the greatest invention ever.
4. MS nurses are still great. At the end of the second infusion, one of them came up to me and asked me how I was feeling. Then she inquired about how I was going to be getting home. Then she said, "Before you go, I have one more serious question for you…" She nodded towards the remnants of the food I'd been snacking on.
   "I love those Nature Valley granola bars but I've never had one of the Peanut Butter ones. What are they like?"
   I answered with the seriousness this question required. "Game-changer. Total game-changer."
   

I'm not being paid for including this endorsement - but I'm open to offers

However…

You might remember that when I was diagnosed with COVID in October, I was getting ready to have my booster jab. And actually catching the damn thing put an end to that.

All throughout the period of my two Ocrevus doses, based on conversations I'd had with my Neuro and the MS Nurses, I'd been led to believe that I would have to wait until at least the end of December before I had my booster jab. 

I asked for clarification after my second dose and the nurse said that she would speak to my neuro and get back to me.

But I was totally unprepared when she called and told me that the earliest I could have my next vaccine shot was the end of March.

This is due to the way that Ocrevus works - it's one of yer classic Immuno-suppressors. And it's so good at it that, if I had a Covid vaccine, I wouldn't have much of an immune response to fight the infection and build up antibodies. 

Unsurprisingly, when the MS Nurse told me this, I said I wished that I'd stayed on Tysabri (an Immuno-modulator, if you remember). 

And all of this drama was before the Omnicron variant and BoJo's rapid vaccination roll-out. I've so far had three emails and at least two text messages from the NHS Covid response team inviting me to book my booster jab. It's pretty wearying, especially because we're trying to prepare for a normal Christmas, which - let's face it - it doesn't look like any of us are going to get.

So after basically shielding for all of 2020, and actually getting Covid, I'm in the same boat until the end of March 2022 at the earliest. 

And if by some miracle, Christmas 2021 isn't a total write-off, I'll need to be the ghost at the feast and - to the best of my ability - avoid seeing most of my family.

Weirdly, there's a Facebook group for people on Ocrevus. And EVERYONE has been told different things about when they can get their third vaccine / booster dose.

The most immediate repercussion of this is that I'm going to have to miss my grandmother's funeral next week - it's upsetting but I just can't take the risk.

I know that this sort of thing has been going on throughout the pandemic, but it doesn't make it any less of a shit business.

ah, mr. lumbar puncture - i've been expecting you

16 years after my MS diagnosis, I'm having my first ever lumbar puncture this week.

How have I managed to avoid one so long?

Well, my diagnosis was arrived at after looking at years of medical history - misfiring neurons wrongly labelled as trapped nerves, mostly - and eventually an MRI. 

My lumbar puncture is to see the extent to which the JC virus has invaded my spine. Knowing if this is the case will enable me to make a choice about my next MS DMT. 

At present this choice comes down to three options - Mavenclad (cladribine), Fingolimod (Gilenya) or Ocrevus (ocrelizumab). So two oral meds and one infusion.

Actually, if this test shows the JC virus, I'll be down to a choice of one. 

The main thing that's worrying me about all of this is that eventually I'm going to run out of possible treatments, right? Tysabri is at the top of the tree with regards to efficacy, Ocrevus is on a level with it. So where do I go from here? 

To use a computer gaming metaphor, what happens when I compete the final MS treatment level? Is there a BOSS level which defeats all comers? Or will it just be a disappointing credit sequence?

Most importantly, will this treatment ruin my favourite film of all time?

what's in a name?

Blah blah blah, it's been a while. Super busy, yaddah yaddah. 

I've always been a little uncomfortable with calling myself an advocate. A couple of years ago I went to a seminar about independence and MS treatment. I remember that I couldn't bring myself to refer to the stuff I do as "advocacy."  Instead, I just called it "Moaning on the Internet."

But I'm uncomfortable with the A-word because I really do think I only moan about stuff online. It's what Ada Lovelace / Alan Turing / Tim Berners-Lee / Tron would want. And I do recognise that some people really are great advocates. I have nothing but respect for them.

I suppose I've always been a little uncomfortable about making my MS the centre of my life. Just after losing my job I had an interview for a job with one of the UK's major MS charities (c'mon, there're only two - three or four at a stretch). While I was disappointed to be unsuccessful at the time, I can't think of anything worse than working full time on your own health condition. 

As an aside, I was talking to a friend for the first time in ages recently. I was talking about my podcast work and he asked, "Are they all about MS?"

Anyway, I think currently that I'm basically living next door (or at the very least adjacent) to MS. 

And it's super-dull and doesn't make for exciting blog posts. Not when I'm picking up disabilities imperceptibly, like coastal erosion. It all seems normal until you eventually turn around and realise that your living room is in the fucking sea. 

Picture of the author yesterday.
"I'm sure I used to get up these stairs quicker"

Lockdown has multiplied my pre-existing antisocial nature so that hasn't helped. And neither has the fact that I haven't been swimming for over a year. I can't believe how much I miss it. 

Anyway, back to advocacy.

The other week I clocked the fact that somebody' on Instagram referred to themselves as a MS Influencer. 

I mean, if they're joking that is some next-level darkly cynical shit. 

But if they're not joking.... On what planet is that the right word?

EDIT

Almost immediately after I published this, I got a message on Twitter from the one and only Jackie Z aka The Queen of GSD:

It's definitely a real word. I have complicated feelings about it but it's usually one used when someone is actually getting paid for their info and experience. It's not the right word but capitalism doesn't know how to pay people in our space without giving them a title that they use for other people who we expect to get paid. AND if we expect to get paid for our experience there has to be value in it for the company and they've deemed "influence" to be the reason worthy of payment

 Thanks for clearing that up, Jackie!

And to be perfectly honest, I've been paid for sharing my experiences in the past - at the seminar I mentioned above, for writing articles for MultipleSclerosis.net. So I don't have a problem with that. At all.

But that word, as Jackie said, isn't quite the right one.

song for a future generation

I am tired, I am afraid
My heart is full of dread
"Soldier" by Richard Dawson 

This was the unnecessarily "on the nose" soundtrack to my last #tysabri infusion which was no fun at all. It was so long ago, I'm almost ready to go back for my next one. 

I started writing a blog post during that infusion but it was so whiny and angsty that I decided to shelve it until the moment passed. 

Obviously I'm still waiting. 

In a sense, life is - for everyone - an endless, perpetual NOW. Things change and they stay the same. Rules change, restrictions are lifted but the results are the same. 

Life seems to have returned to how it was in February / March. My sleep has certainly returned to how it was then - sporadic and unsatisying!

A complete lockdown seems inevitable so we're stealing ourselves. We're trying to stay abreast of the developments but also trying to stay sane. Keeping things light for our daughter but preparing for when everything changes again. 

I can't help feeling that there will be some kind of global outbreak of post-traumatic stress if/when this ever ends. Yes, my flippant response to anyone asking me how it has been for us is, "Well, I don't go out that much so no change there". 

But really, the first lockdown came at a time when I'd got a little braver at taking risks. Longtime visitors will know that my self-confidence has taken a battering over the years, as my mobility has gone south.

(This is not a situation which is unique to me, obviously)

But at the end of 2019 and at the start of this year, I had been getting better. At leaving the house, at taking (small, calculated) chances. And in the last month or so I've been made aware that I've reverted to my past bad behaviours. Staying in whenever possible and having mild panic attacks whenever I do leave the house. And freaking out if things don't go to plan. 

The pandemic is an exhausting situation for everyone but surely it has to be particularly bad for anyone living with some kind of chronic illness. Not least because of the fact we're seen as canon fodder or collateral damage. 

And all this is even without considering the utterly terrifying prospect of Long COVID. 

But at the same time, we've seen that accessibility IS possible. More and more events have been streamed online. Working from home has been normalised. For god's sake, even my mum and dad are doing their grocery shopping online. 

With the emphasis on getting back to normal, going out to work and supporting the economy, are things eventually going to revert to how they were?

Maybe this will be the lasting trauma from COVID for the chronic illness community. The memory that there was a time when events were accessible and remote working was encouraged. A time when the general populace had a little insight into the fears that disabled / chronically ill people have lived with for years.

That your continued good health is not a god given right. That no-one's job is secure. 

After all that, it would be terrible if everything just returned to the way it was before. 

I am tired, I am afraid
My heart is full of hope
"Soldier" by Richard Dawson

the thing about the heartsick shut-in

This brilliant song by They Might Be Giants was my earworm this morning. It made me laugh, the way that clever, rhythmically precise lyrics can.

And then I really started to pay attention to them.

Renew my subscription
To "Desperate Bellowing Magazine"
It sure does have a familiar ring
You might say I fit the description
Renew my subscription
To "Miserable Freak Show Quarterly"
Every back-number I saw spoke to me
Acknowledging it's my addiction

Although it would be natural to be tired of feeling like a "heartsick-shut-in", nearly five months into the UK's delayed lock-down, in all honestly it hasln't involved massive changes to my everyday life.

• Still working? Yep*
• Too much? Possibly
• Going out regularly? Well, as much as ever (i.e. not so much)

* By the way, the fact that the government has stopped shielding vulnerable people with chronic health conditions and is effectively forcing them back into work makes me sick. I’d hoped that the pandemic would make employers appreciate the value of remote working. I guess I missed a meeting. 

As I mentioned before, I've been getting more regular exercise than I have in years. In fact, I'm still displaying more commitment to the Joe Wicks exercise videos than the man himself. It became part of our home-schooling schedule so we carried on doing weekday mornings even when Joe went part-time. Plus me and Little Ms D did extra sessions on weekends, and we're still going.

Recently there has been a bit of talk about swimming pools reopening. Much as I miss swimming, I can't imagine anything less likely at the moment.

Like a kind of filthy, random stock-pot! Yikes.

On the couple of occasions I've been to the hospital for my Tysabri infusion, when asked the standard question about if I have any alergies, I have said, "Only other people." I really don't have much faith in the British public's much vaunted stock of common sense.

I mean, it's never a good sign when American friends send WhatsApp messages, mocking events such as the terrible scenes at Bournemouth last month. That's right. American people, from AMERICA, think that we're idiots.

A catchphrase of mine and the divine Mrs D's was prompted by a story on our local news programme. This was immediately after the announcement that people could book foreign holidays, a ruling that, in itself, didn't last that long.

I'm sure that, as I write, the official line is that people are being encouraged to book holidays in order to support the tourism industry. However, they should expect not to be able to travel. I'm pretty sure that, had I ever been arsed to finish reading Catch 22, this might make some kind of sense.

Anyway, in the news report that evening, they interviewed a woman who was going towards check-in with her kids. They asked her why she was travelling. She said something along the lines of, "The schools aren't in, and we'd seen that bookings were possible, so we just thought, 'Why not?'"

To which we responded, "Because there's a frigging GLOBAL PANDEMIC!"

So "we just thought, 'Why not?'" has been a recurring joke, whenever another brainfart recommendation has been mooted. Maybe we have a slightly more sensitive attitude towards risk than most people.

I wanna be a much better person
Instead I worsen with every day
But there's a drug whose name I'm not sure of
Which I need more of to feel okay

Read the full lyrics to Renew My Subscription.

old news

So. I got my PIP award. Actually, I got notification the day of my last infusion over two weeks ago. But the world has since gone to hell in a handcart and it just seemed too trite and small to bother writing about.

I got the same award as previously, but this time it's for 10 years. The guy from the Citizens Advice Bureau (who helped me to fill out my form) contacted me to see if I wanted to appeal - when we met he thought that I was entitled to the enhanced rate for both Everyday Living as well as Mobility.

I decided that I didn't want to risk losing the whole thing. Plus I knew by then that some serious shit was in the pipe as far as Coronavirus was concerned. For my own self care I figured that I'd have enough to fight without adding anything extra.

So the whole PIP thing seems like a problem from a more innocent time.

Last week was our first with Little Ms D since UK schools were closed. And although self-isolation is almost second nature to me (as it is for most people living with disabilities / chronic illnesses), it hasn't been without its difficulties.

And that's only bearing in mind logistics of child care, education and getting food (i.e. up until last Saturday, we couldn't). It's also been psychologically tricky to navigate. We're all in the same house, all of the time.

But I guess it's the same all over. And we have friends and family who're all struggling, and - strangely - this makes us all feel better.

However, this virus is bloody scary. Coupled with the fact that the government guidelines continue to change on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis. Also, nobody knows how Covid-19 interacts (or doesn't) with MS medication - things seem to point towards Tysabri being one of the least dangerous options (which is not to say that it's not without risks!) And I did get a call from the MS Nurses recently to double-check that I was coming for my next infusion. So time will tell.

But no matter. We have a new messiah.

Joe Wicks was someone that I'd only heard of in passing but now his P.E. With Joe daily workout is an essential part of our weekdays. Cometh the hour and all that.

at the third PIP...

So less than two years after I got my PIP award I'm having to reapply. The DWP takes the day from when I first applied, not from the day they finally gave me my award (after faffing around for 18months).

Yes, we all know that MS is a chronic, progressive condition and that it's a cold and cruel world.

"It's not as if you're going to get better" etc.

But this is apparently where we are. So let's go to work.

And yes, the form does ask if there've been any changes to my condition. As such, you might be forgiven for thinking that if I just said "No" then I'd get get the same result straight off the bat.

But everything I've read says that it ain't necessarily so. So I need to treat the whole thing as a fresh application.

I've got numerous appointments lined up in order to get my supporting material sorted in advance.

I've already met with the contact we worked with last time. And my neurologist. Still to come: a contact at the Citizens Advice Bureau (who one day a week has his time paid for by the MS Society) and my GP.

Even with all of that I'm not kidding myself that this will be an open and shut case. Or easy. I'm not a complete amnesiac!

But all we can do is keep buggering on. So that's what we're doing.

Fingers crossed.

careful what you wish for

Oof. Crazy busy!

1. I - bizarrely - have a nice and growing number of clients for my podcast business. And I'm getting paid!
2. I'm still not used to talking about my "clients". or my "business". Weirdness.
3. Most of these are just editing jobs so far but I also launched a whole podcast and got it onto Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google, Stitcher...
4. I'm actually really good at this!
5. Even though I'm LOVING doing the podcast work, I recently applied for another job. I didn't get it but it was nice to go for an interview and not have EVERYTHING riding on it.

All of this is despite the fact that I officially "have limited capability for work and work-related activity". This is from my recent Work Capability Assessment (WCA), something which I probably should've had for my Universal Credit claim way before now.

The first part of this involved filling out... ANOTHER FORM!

Well, it has been a while.

This one was pretty intense. But once again I used the Benefit Advice Essentials Facebook Group for some advice. And as before it was really helpful.

At first glance I thought I could take a good run at the form. But looking at one of their information sheets, it pointed out two things:

• Parts of the WCA form are directly related to parts of the PIP form.
• The Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) could use the information from a WCA form to make decisions on PIP applications.

After reading this, I made sure that anything I wrote on the WCA form didn't contradict anything I'd put in my last PIP application.

I got it done and submitted, then spent a couple of weeks stressing about having to have another face-to-face assessment.

And then I got a letter through the post, saying, as above, that I have limited capability for work. With no need for an assessment.

Which at first seemed like a bit of a result - woo-hoo, etc.

At first.

But then I realised. I hadn't lied on this form. And thinking back, I didn't so much as bend the truth at all on my PIP form.

And then I thought - so maybe I really am that disabled.

Don't get me wrong, it's great that I should get the support I need, especially as I try to establish my new of working.

But nevertheless, it's a bit crap, innit?

(It's that kind of penetrating insight which you keep coming back for, right?)

wheelchair envy

To sort out my little blueberry toes, I recently had to get a blood test. I always find there's a real sense of camaraderie in waiting rooms. People just chat and pass the time waiting for their number to be called.

Any frequent reader of this blog will know that my attitude to my wheelchair can be described as ambivalent at best (if not downright hostile).

When I was getting it I learnt that if your chair can fold up and/or come apart it tends to add to the weight. So there's a payoff for the convenience.

But in the waiting room on that day I noticed that the woman sitting in front of me had a super snazzy set of wheels.

After passing the time of day, I had to say, "Excuse me for asking, but is your wheelchair as light as it looks?"

She told me it was and was made of titanium. The frame is also totally rigid, although the wheels can come off.

It's a Quickie like this one (stop sniggering at the back).

I said that my own chair was super heavy. And even though I genuinely wasn't angling for it, she asked me if I'd like to have a go.

As a glasses wearer I've always hated when people ask if they can try mine on so I said no thanks. But she insisted.

Please note that I find propelling myself in my chair totally exhausting. It's so heavy!

But this was like going from an old car to one with power steering. I only had to brush my hands past the wheels and I was off.

With her encouragement I went off for a scoot around the hospital. In a couple of minutes I covered a lot of ground, zipping down corridors. The difference between it and my own chair was astonishing.

When I reluctantly returned her chair she said that it had been custom made to her specifications. And it had cost around £4,000 to get one in the UK.

Ouch.

Don't be surprised if I reinvent myself as an Instagram or YouTube influencer in the forthcoming months.

yes my pretty, one day you shall be mine...

i am one thousand years old

It's true!

I'm having a lot of trouble sleeping at the moment. My sleep hygiene is good. Ok I probably read a little too much but in my head it helps. Although the evidence doesn't really back it up.

CASE IN POINT: last night after a lovely day out with the family in the fresh air with lots of walking, sleep was still impossible to find. It doesn't make sense.

I've started having a milky drink an hour before I go to sleep (Q.V. one thousand years old) - but sometimes I forget (see earlier point).

I worry that I'm now beyond help!

Another thing that happened yesterday was I went to the doctor to talk to him about the fact that my circulation is terrible (did I mention that I'm at least one thousand years old?).

FULL DISCLOSURE - this has been a problem since at least my 2017 relapse when the Occupational Therapist came round to talk to us about adaptations in the house. She took one look at my toes and said, "You know they're not meant to be that colour, right?"

Yeah, I know, I know - that was almost exactly two years ago…

They can sometimes look like 10 little blueberries (no pictures because FEET ARE GROSS). And they can get so cold that they keep me awake. So I've been wearing socks in bed - and they're not even Business Socks, FoC fans.

Anyway, the doctor had a good look at my (gross) feet and told me to get some blood tests - after he gets the results he might send me for a consultation with a vascular surgeon.

I tell you, with the lack of sleep, bed socks and bad circulation, I don't mind admitting that I've felt sexier.

Obviously this track by the awesome They Might Be Giants has been in heavy rotation on my internal iPod.

if at first you don’t succeed...

... give up.

Not really, obviously, but it's bloody tempting.

I'm (genuinely) limping towards the end of my contract. But because you can't be too busy, I've recently applied for a couple of other jobs.

One I didn't get further than the application but the other I got to the second interview stage. It was between me and one other applicant. And - ta-daah! - they went with the other guy. To add insult to injury, it's basically the same job that I'm doing currently for a different artform. So that's a thing.

However if I'd been successful it would've meant me doing both jobs at the same time which would be pretty hardcore. Plus Mrs D is very keen that I have a little break when I finish. Especially because I had my most recent relapses within a week of finishing a previous freelance contract.

And truth be told I'm feeling pretty wrung out at present. A combination of long hours and - annoyingly - sleep being hard to come by.

Case in point: I finished writing this post during my most recent Tysabri infusion having had no more than thirty minutes sleep.

So a short break won't do me any harm.

Here's a moment of Emo Zen! 

listening to this song...

 

... looking out of this window in the hospital

 

#sadface

#buttface

#growup 

the (work) conversation

When I was first diagnosed with MS I was working in a theatre. I tried to keep it on the DL but made sure that the colleagues I worked with every day knew what was going on.

The following year I had a couple of freelance roles. And in each organisation I made sure that I had The Conversation and at least one person knew about my condition.

After that I got my job at my most recent employer. I had The Conversation and told my boss (on the first day!) that I had MS. I was able to keep this fairly hush-hush until I had two relapses in the course of a couple of months. The large amount of time off meant that I couldn't really hide it any more.

So my employment history pretty much consists of a series of 'comings out'. And for the last few years - as my invisible disability has got more visible - I've been pretty much out.

As a member of the CULTURAL ELITE, the people I've worked with have stayed fairly constant - we all might've moved from organisation to organisation but the faces tend to stay the same.

So when I had the interview for my current short term contract, I was able to discuss my health openly, as I knew two of the people in the panel fairly well. Not to say what I couldn't do, but focusing instead on what I can do and do well.

My role offers a level of home working and on the whole it has been good so far. Even so, when I've gone into work, I've found waking up, washing, breakfasting, dressing and travelling to an office for the first time in two years utterly banjaxing.

I recently needed to have a variation of The Conversation with my line manager - the "I know this is part of the advertised role, and we skirted around it in the interview, but the thought of doing it is making me ill and I can't do it and I don't want to".

Y'know, the one where you feel like a complete liability and a dead weight.

I've said it before - and admittedly I've been burned by it before - but people working in arts and culture can be bloody lovely. When I told my line manager that I hated feeling like I was letting her down she said that she hated the fact I had to deal with these issues. Her understanding, and her comment that everybody really appreciated everything I was bringing to the project, was like a load off my mind.

Further proof that I was settling in came later that day. I'd left the office and said goodbye to two other freelancers working alongside me. I nipped to the loo and when I came out, one of them said "are you still here?!"

Then she darted off, saying "I'll race you to the lift!"

Cheeky sod.

Truly I have found my people. Again.

live-blogging emotional distress

[The following was written earlier today on my phone]

Believe it or not there is an element of planning which goes into these posts. Even if they have an air of the inane ramblings of a grumpy old fart.

This being MS, however, there's always something which can bring you back to earth. More often than not, explicitly so. 

As I write this I'm in Wales with Little Ms D, my parents, my brother and his kids. So far it has been a non-stop cavalcade of lazy beach days, seaside food and amusement arcades. And I've pleased myself (and others) with the amount of walking I've done. 

Was I too pleased with myself?

No matter. Because early we today, after a good while engaged with the serious business of building some sandcastles, I found I couldn't get up. And when I did, I lost my balance and - in the most drawn-out slow motion scene ever - I ended up falling into the rock we'd parked ourselves up against.

Grazed arms, jarred back, bruised ego. 

Or, in my brother's more positive version...

I fell into a hard rock wall and didn't split my head open. 

Can't argue with that kind of logic, right?

I lay on the floor for a good few moments. I was pretty happy down there to be honest.

I'd forgotten that I can't really squat on my haunches, even for a short while, without my shitty legs packing up on me.

Later, when walking up to buy an ice cream, I was unable to pick my feet over a clump of seaweed. So flat on my arse again.

Bruised ego 2: Electric Boogaloo.

After initially wanting to go back to the holiday home I decided to park up on a bench. Which is where you find me.

I'm currently watching my daughter play football with her cousins. I hope she doesn't ever think I was voluntarily absent from scenes like this. And I hope she knows that I wish with all my heart I could do all the normal Dad things.

sit down, be humble

We're lucky enough to live down the road from some great heritage locations. So ever since Little Ms D was born we've always taken her to see the Chatsworth Christmas decorations.

We should've gone yesterday, with my Mum and Mother in Law, but my legs weren't playing ball. I was really pissed off and my frustrations manifested themselves in a display of olympic-standard  ARSEHOLISM, primarily directed at my Dad. I'm not proud of it.

Thankfully he ended up taking Mrs D, The Child and the Mums so at least they didn't have to miss out but I ended up feeling down on myself for the rest of the day. I've not been my best recently - a combination of my recent job disappointment added to Christmas stress and the inevitable feeling that I'm bound to get another PIP knock back from the DWP in the post just before Christmas.

I started writing this on my phone while Tysabri infusion number four was being pumped into my vein. It was bloody chaos in the hospital today. Lots of people dealing with worse situations than mine, it's pretty humbling and puts yesterday's mardiness into some kind of perspective. It shouldn't take that to give me some clarity but there we are.

One thing that has been confirmed today is a sneaking suspicion I've had, that the effect of Tysabri "wears off" - prompted by my dodgy day yesterday and vague things that I've noticed previously. I felt pretty daft when I asked the nurse about it earlier, convinced it was all psychosomatic. But apparently a number of people come in for their treatment saying they're ready for it.

Now we might all be guilty of reading too much in to stuff but maybe yesterday's issues were understandable. I must remember not to arrange anything for the day before my infusions in the future!

And also to be less of a mardy bum hole.

I can't imagine I'll have chance to write much more here over the festive period so thanks for reading the blog this year. It has personally been helpful to get all this stuff out of my head but I really didn't intend for 2017 to be so interesting!

Here's to a much less traumatic time in 2018 for us all (health wise).

The bass on this track (one of my favourites of the year) took me well and truly by surprise when it popped up during today's infusion.

which way now

With wearying predictability I didn't get that job.

I'm disappointed but in a way not that surprised. The jobs I've gone for recently have all been Arts Marketing jobs and my entire work experience has been in this area.

Truth be told I kind of fell into this sort of work when I left university - after applying for a handful of jobs, a local theatre was the only place to get in touch, offering me a work experience placement. Since then I've worked my way through the ranks to end up... in the job which I was forced out of this time last year.

I'm ok but wondering what's going to happen next. I'm not fishing but I genuinely think there's a strong possibility I've been bluffing all these years!

I think I need to take stock and maybe look at working in a different area. Little Ms D has offered me a job telling stories but we haven't discussed terms yet.

Offer the last year a handful of people have told me I should write something. I know the cliche is that everyone has a book inside them. But I struggle having something to tweet about most days - and that's even at the old 140-character rate, let alone the enhanced War-and-Peace 280-character behemoth.

Ah well. Pick yrself up again, Steve.

maybe I should've studied this book a bit closer?