Post Doctor Blues

As many of you know, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) in my early 20s.  For the most part, I don't spend time focusing on it nor do I feel sorry for myself.  However, once a year, I allow myself to hold a pity party and amazingly enough, this pity party generally coincides with my annual check-up with my neurologist.  This year that appointment came the day after I returned from my fabulous Key West vacation.  

I received the usual news that I was doing well and the MS was still dormant, however he strongly suggested I consider an ankle/foot brace to help with my drop foot (a result of an early MS exacerbation).  This was not met with a positive response.  I have spent 20 years avoiding the brace since the original braces tended to lead to muscle atrophy in the braced leg.  There has been a lot of advances and today's braces look like something out of Star Wars.  I agreed with having an evaluation to see what type of brace I would need, I have yet to agree to get the brace. I have several reasons for not wanting to use the brace, but I do understand that it is meant to help me. 

Why is all this background information important?  

Well this year I seemed to have had the pity party but missed it.  I knew I was feeling down last week, but I attributed it to post vacation blues.  Unfortunately as the week went on, I became more and more depressed and was a little confused as to the cause.  It finally hit me on Sunday, that I had come to the end of my annual MS pity party and I missed it.  What do I mean by that?  I generally get to whine about having MS and pose the "why me" phrase, but since I missed it, I didn't get the chance.  That is just not fair.   

All week, I felt off kilter and that was evident in my bi-weekly torture, I mean training, sessions.  It may not have been evident to others but I found it annoying. I may bitch and whine like a kid, but I always put in 100% while I'm at the studio.  Last week everything just felt wrong.  As I did  flys, curls and presses, they didn't feel right. I felt as if I wasn't doing them correctly, but the Sadist double checked and apparently I was right on target. Everything seemed to be twice as hard to complete.  By the end of my session on Friday I asked the Sadist why I even bothered doing all this work.  His response: "Because you love it."  Yeah right?  Love is pushing it when it comes to my feelings about working out. It is more along the lines of tolerate and maybe like, but definitely not love. 

Today, I was back to normal and it felt good.  I was able to do all the exercises even though I whined about them.  The best part was I was able to do step-ups with relative ease.  When I first started with the Sadist these were nearly impossible as my balance was not the best.  It is nice to see that I am actually making progress. Since I'm always pushing the envelope to get to the next level, I don't always feel as if I'm succeeding.  Today I did.  I'm sure on Friday, I'll be back to wondering if I'm getting anywhere, but for today I'll just enjoy my small but meaningful success.