Heat and humidity are the mortal enemies of Multiple Sclerosis patients and today I am sweaty and uncomfortable. My right arm is hurting as I am staring at a picture of Montel Williams on his book cover of Climbing Higher. Kick ass book and bless his heart for writing it. It’s always shocking when someone in the public eye gets sick and has to deal with devastating disease as though he was just a member of the general population.(take a look at the photo above of my family taken just a couple of years ago).
When your world is diminished down to your humble abode you might start to act a little goofy and maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that’s where imagination comes from. Maybe that’s where inspiration sparks; in that goofy space where nothing else will fit and it doesn’t make any difference because all you want to do is create…or scream. I have written a book entitled Potty Mouth which is a story about a woman disabled with multiple sclerosis who faces the challenges of life with courage, wisdom and a profane sense of humor. And that would be me.
I understand that that is where much genius comes from. I’m not quite there yet in that insane place in the mind where a switch is loose and a tire has blown out. And I am certainly not a genius…
Thank you God, I am not schizophrenic or manic-depressive and if it weren’t for this goddamn Multiple Sclerosis I would be perfectly healthy.
I am not a da Vinci or a van Gogh or a Jim Morrison. I am Renae Clare and I have MS and that’s enough to keep me bawling intermittently, teary when I think too much, and starting to cry when I see heartwarming episodes of Extreme Home Makeover. That show makes me feel as though I should get up off my fat lazy ass and go start a not-for-profit organization until I remember, oh yeah, I am in a wheelchair so I can’t get off of my fat lazy ass which by the way is not that fat, even though it is wheelchair shaped and I am certainly not lazy.
I am just fatigued and my neurological system does not work right and that includes my brain, spinal cord, and nerves so the signals don’t get their as quickly as they should or they get sent to the totally wrong place. Probably to my goddam potty mouth or my bladder. I am flummoxed yet again
And therein lies the rub. No matter how fast I am thinking, no matter how swiftly I am typing in my mind, no matter how quickly my brain is churning out words and thoughts and brilliant pieces of information, I have to backtrack and clear up the errors that I have made along the way. And they are many.). And that is so very, very frustrating it makes me want to head butt Montel’s book and since that wouldn’t hurt very much (or be very nice) it is right up my alley. I really don’t need another big bloody gash on my forehead or another broken bone.
I invite everyone to take a look at the Potty Mouth websiteso you can read a little about me and about the book which is set to be released very shortly. Thanks guys. Now in