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January 24 2011
January 22 2011
December 28 2010
December 21 2010
December 12 2010
December 09 2010
November 27 2010
November 16 2010
November 13 2010
November 10 2010
Feels Like This
Going Blind
A Tampa Blog #Multiplesclerosis
http://www.recreatingtampa.com/2010/10/22/caleb-and-ms/
Spiny Tim is a haunting journal of a local artist’s battle with primary progressive multiple sclerosis (PPMS).
“It is difficult for me to write about my condition, because to commit to paper, so to speak, is to make it real. And even now, I am loath to make it real.
“Every morning I wake diminished, and I think to myself: if I don’t get any worse than this, then I will be able to go on. I will be able to relieve myself, put some food in my stomach, take care of the dog and the cat, and go be productive for someone. Every morning I wake to find that my hands are more useless, curled, and insensate, add that my legs are more distant meat objects, useful as stilts, perhaps, but not much else.
“And every morning I wake with fewer words.”
Spiny Tim once kept a blog titled Calebism, where he posted occasional images of his art.
November 02 2010
October 23 2010
October 22 2010
October 20 2010
My Neighbors Are Waiting
#ppms #multiplesclerosis ms, Multiple Sclerosis, #multiplesclerosis, #ppms, Timothy Scratchit, http://spinytim.com/, primary progressive Multiple Sclerosis,
October 18 2010
Being Here Now, Reluctantly #ppms #multiplesclerosis
from flickr
I got hit with galloping ppms late last year, and so I’m still kind of in shock, having gone from zero to 6.5 on the disability scale in just a few months. But I can sincerely say that for the first time in my life I am fully living up to my potential, in that everything I do from petting my dog to composing this reply takes 100% of my attention. Anything less results in injury or failure. I would say that ppms is a high price to pay for the ability to be fully present in this moment, but it is something. And although I am in a highly precarious position and have never been as vulnerable and helpless and hopeless as I now find myself, I am too involved in surviving this moment to do much worrying about anything. I wonder if this is what being very very old is like?
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