I had been “advised” to NOT blog a few years ago, not until I moved forward with getting my book published….the thought being that if I put EVERYTHING (all my stories and funny thoughts) out on the internet, people would be a lot less motivated to buy it (why pay for something that you can get for free?) BUT so much time has gone by, life has gone on and my life has continued to change and evolve. AND so I finally bit the bullet and started this blog, but one of the things I wrestle with is how much of the book to share…there are SO many good stories, things to share and I am so tempted to put them here. I realize that I will need to make some decisions about this, how much is too much….
But in the meantime, I thought I would share the quick story of how I came up with the title of the book…
As I got out of the car I leaned against it to help stabilize myself as I attempted to make it to the garage door. At just that moment, our postman came around the corner to deliver our mail. Juan had been on our route for almost 10 years, and knew us well. Many times when I was out running with the double jogger and dogs, I would see him in the neighborhood, happily waving as he drove by and often yelling out a friendly greeting or words of encouragement as I climbed one of the steep hills that pervade the city of Seattle. But since the diagnosis, I hadn’t been out, and certainly wasn’t running, so I had not seen him for at least 6 months.
As he approached me, he saw how I was using the side of the car to help me with walking. He stopped and asked “Megan, what happened to you?” (BUT because he is originally from Mexico and speaks with a thick accent, my name came out more like May-gone.)
I had become quite accustomed to this question and quickly replied, “Oh, I have MS.”
After a long and awkward pause, he stepped forward, handed me our mail and said “I know you are a mess, please take care”, and he walked away.
I was left standing in my driveway, desperately wanting to scream, “no, I am not a MESS, I have MS!!!” but he was gone.
I started laughing laboriously, the tears streaming down my face. I could just imagine him running into other neighbors and saying “You know, May-gone, SHE is a mess!”
I couldn’t stop laughing, and my attempt to get into the house was not going well at all. The next thing I knew, I was peeing in my pants. That oh so lovely, and unfortunately now familiar feeling of the warm liquid making it’s way down my legs, to find it final resting spot within the confines of my favorite pair of boots (how would I EVER get rid of that stench?) This just set me off into another fit of giggles, because I was then thinking, “well, now I AM a mess.”
It’s funny, because even now, years later, if something goes awry, and I find myself in some sort of precarious situation, it will run through my mind….maybe I AM a mess….but I guess if I AM, then what I have learned is that I am not alone because there are plenty of people out there, with their own “messes” and
mine are ONLY unique in that they are MINE.