Perspective

Hospital visit today for the six-monthly vampire feeding and report anything new/changed appointment.  Bloods taken, so we know I still have blood and presumably a heart that's beating.  It was the right colour and the veins were in the right place, so probably still human.  I assume if I've become half hamster it will show up in the routine tests and someone will let me know.  Of course they might not, but I don't feel any different so it probably doesn't matter.

Was sitting in the entrance area waiting for my taxi home and had a slap in the face from life making sure I don't lose perspective.  Think I can blog about this because I'm in no way disparaging the person.  I'm in fact full of respect and admiration.  I don't have a name.  I don't have an explanation.  I only have my observations and the impact they had.

In the lobby, a young man (and by young I mean definitely no older me) in a wheelchair was waiting for his transport, two nurses by his side.  I see people in wheelchairs all the time.  I'd been talking to two just fifteen minutes earlier.  I'll probably be in a wheelchair myself before too long.  This young man had far more importance in my day and maybe even my life than anyone else I've seen or spoken to today.  Why?  Well, the only way to describe it is a significant proportion of his skull is missing.  His face is like anyone else's until mid forehead.  From there, it does not curve back and over like yours or mine.  There is a flat section that goes back an inch or two then a vertical section rises from it for an inch or two and from there, slopes backward like everyone else's.  An entire segment of the sphere of his skull is just not there as though it has been cut out with some right-angled tool.  Perhaps it was.  Whether through accident, illness, birth or some other factor I haven't imagined, he is very remarkable.

When you see someone afflicted like that, you can't help but look.  It's not like you even do it voluntarily.  My eyes did not believe what they were seeing and instinct made them look back to be sure.  I'm not one to stare at anyone and that didn't change; I'm certainly not one to pry or pity those who are fighting on, and that didn't change.  I really wanted to go over though, and just talk.  I was stopped by a fear that my intentions would be misunderstood.  I wanted to understand and I wanted to show not sympathy but a genuine respect and awe at his courage.  He was interacting with his companions, talking as well as he good in a deep and resolute if not quite co-ordinated voice.  What I wanted to do was smile and and ask him his story.  I would never dream of being sickly sweet and talking down to him.  I was interested and I was inspired.  But you never know how it will go if you try to show it.

Perspective comes in many ways.  So what if I struggled to get to the post office the other day.  The fact is I got there and back and I did it myself.  I washed my own hair last night and I dressed myself this morning.  I walked through the hospital myself and I explained how I'm doing for myself.  Now, I know I laughed when I found out I had MS because frankly it could have been so much worse, but it's not often I get such a  powerful reminder.  Worse things happen to better people than me all the time and that young man, who clearly has such spirit, is better than me.  I could feel his mood and his persona from where I sat and I was humbled.  I'm no less frightened about the things that are happening to me day by day, but I am reminded that at least there are things I can do about it and things that I shouldn't allow to bother me.  I have frustrations, not problems.  I have weird symptoms, not catastrophic ones.  If he or anyone who knows that remarkable young man (north east of England and at the hospital today, May 10th 2012) should read this, I'd love you to get in touch and tell me more about him.  I'd like to tell his story, with his permission, so that more people than me can be inspired by him.  I hope I'm not crossing the line by blogging this.  It's really refreshed my perspective.