After fourteen years with too numerous to count misdiagnoses, this is my daily journey living with an unknown disease that has made me fully physically dependent, living by the help from my family, friends, and beloved service dog. It is how I have chosen to define myself to remain whole in spite of it.

It's The Holiday Season

For me, once December 1st has arrived, it means it is officially the holiday season. (Though, anything “Christmassy” after Santa has arrived at the Macy’s Day Parade is acceptable). That means that Camelot makes appearances in a Santa’s hat. (No, he does not necessarily think this is a good idea, and he does require treats as a “thank you” once he has posed for everyone). It means Christmas trees start appearing in the rooms I generally live in, (I love Christmas trees) and Christmas playlists are selected on my Pandora station. It also means that all of my holiday socks begin to come out from the back of the drawer…

By my official diagnosis, my feet are claustrophobic. Yes, yes, they are. Ever since I became ill with the dramatic onset of becoming a quadriplegic, my feet actually took the longest to regain sensation; to the this day they are still hyper-sensitive. When the torture of having shoes placed on them is endured, they refuse, often swelling up, turning red, and with pains and needles telling me to “Take them off!”

If you’re thinking I have got to stop letting my feet have such an opinion, well, I quite agree with you. But after a few years of having daily masochistic torture sessions to try to get them over their phobia and lessen their responses, and getting them improved to the point where they react as above, I finally said that enough was enough. Socks will do just fine. At least, until I can stand up, and then presumably, my feet will follow in recovery and I will be rocking heels. Heels? Ambitious you think? Absolutely! If you’re dreaming, dream big. (Besides, heels are so pretty!)

In the meantime, I, practical being that I am, start with the basics, daily trying to get my feet to tolerate more then the five seconds they bear weight in a transfer (or until I pass out). Plus, I have become quite the aspiring model for socks.


My one parting gift for the start of this holiday season—sock designs are a great conversation starter. Seriously, try it. It will take you places you would never have thought of in small talk! 

 

A Favorite Christmas Gift

Something to Be Thankful For