Houston, We Have a Problem

The weather was beautiful here in Cincy today, so I thought I'd take full advantage of it and head outside for some exercise. After dinner at my parents I helped Mark load the kids in the van, turned on my IPod and headed out for the 1.8 mile walk home.

I got about .3 miles before I realized there was a problem. See, MS affects your balance. When you walk on the treadmill there are those nice handrails you can grab onto when necessary. Not so out in the great wide open. I tried to maintain a decent pace, but the faster I walked the more off balance I became. Luckily it was dark, so no one could see me weaving all over the sidewalk like I'd been on an all-day bender.

Halfway home I started to cry. "This is so embarrassing. I look like a fool."

Three-quarters of the way home I got mad. "Damnit, why won't my body work like I want it to?" And then I pushed on. I was going to do this. I need to do this, I told myself.

When I got home, I did what I usually do when I'm not feeling so hot--I fell into Mark's arms. He always seems to know just what to say.

"Give it time," he said. "You're just starting. Your body needs to get used to it." (He then threatened to call the cops on me the next time to report a lady who was obviously intoxicated. Thanks, dear.)

In the meantime, I have to come up with a plan of action so I don't run the risk of being picked up by the po po every time I go out for a walk. I have a walking stick that my in-laws bought me last time we were in Gatlinburg, but somehow I don't think the mean streets of Delhi are the appropriate venue for using it.

So while I'm figuring out my plan, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't point, stare, laugh or call the cops if you drive by me. I'd rather you just honk or wave and wish me luck.