I had a plan...and it didn't involve hanging it up again

I had a plan. I would drastically change my diet, exercise almost every day and tell MS to fuck off. It wasn't a solid plan but it worked. I was good. I even got "fired" from seeing the doctors at the MS clinic.  I knew the cues my body gave when I was doing too much. I learned to rest. I even learned how to say no.  My plan was foolproof.

Big. Fat. No.

That's what my body and MS said to me last week.  A big fucking no.

Plans are never foolproof, and I'm learning that with this disease. Don't even bother making a plan.  I thought my immune system was solid.  I haven't been sick in a long time. Not even a cold. But something crept in, numbing my legs from the waist down.  Making me barely mobile.  Fogging my brain.  Fatiguing me to the point that I need to crawl back into bed til noon after the kids go to school, and then again by 8pm. This time so bad that I called a doctor and got some drugs for the first time ever to maybe help.  And so bad that I've hung up my cape. The cape I proudly wore for my kids that made me Supermom. 

They see me struggle. I see them worry.  They tell me it makes them sad and they are praying I feel better.  I have to tell them things are ok. But they also have to know that mom can't do it all. My house is a disaster. But I don't care.  They've eaten cereal and pbj sandwiches alot this week. They love it. They have to take the bus or bike cause Mom isn't functioning enough to treat them and drive them to school. Does it bug me? You bet. Do I let it? Nope.  Cause I know that healing my body is more important than a clean house.  Does it bug them? Maybe. But they do their own laundry if they need something. They make their own lunches, and are perfectly happy when it's make-your-own-supper night.

I guess if I have to be out of it for a few weeks, I'm pretty glad I'm out with the team I have at home.  So the cape is in the closet for awhile.  And I'm ok with that.