Saying balls to MS with poetry
Officially I still have relapsing remitting MS, but I’ve not had a relapse for years. Yet, I continue to deteriorate. Slowly, but noticeably.
When I look back on how far I could walk just a year ago, compared to now, the word ‘secondary’ keeps swimming round my scarred brain.
A continual progression, one that can’t be stopped by the injections of Brabio I dutifully perform three times a week, is a scary process. I’ve always looked for the humour in my situation, but I must admit that’s now becoming harder.
So, instead of the light touch I generally adopt in my writing about MS, I felt like coming up with something a little more serious. The result is this poem (I assure you my memoir, Balls to MS, is much more of a laugh).
Secondary Thoughts
Are you bored of me?
‘Cause I’m bored of you
Who would I be now
If born fresh and new?
Lived with you too long
Lost me in the mist
Not one ailment alone
You gave me a list
Every year you push me
Closer to the wheels
When thoughts turn to chairs
My whole world it reels
The drama of relapse
Replaced by decay
Lack of drama for sure
Still, counting the days
Inadequate name
For the path laid out
Such secondary thoughts
For such fears and doubts
Roll over and cry
No longer my style
I’ll keep pushing hard
And walking that mile
Scars found in the brain
But not on the mind
Search for a new fight
A fight you may find
A battle we wage
We’ll come through the test
Staying the full course
Saying balls to MS
Read more about Andy’s story on his blog where you can also find out where to buy his memoir 'Balls to MS'.
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