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There is no escaping the MonSter.

                             Hand drawn aquarelle colorful illustration. Watercolor artwork. Summer, travel trailer on camping parking. Vintage and old school. Hipster tourist on nature. Easel, table, chair, suitcases on grass.
Y'know, sometimes I wish I could do something, anything, without the presence of my constant companion. It would be so nice, so refreshing so freaking awesome to leave MS behind for just a day or two.

But, no, the MonSter insists on crashing every event on my agenda. It would be so nice to just be normal for once. I really hate that term, but there is no other way to accurately describe it. When my husband of a dozen years surprises me with an anniversary dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, I start the evening by crawling around on the gravel in the parking lot. So I've already started our anniversary trip to the mountains in mortifying humiliation and with a torn up knee.

After dinner we head on up the mountain to our oasis. I just know once we get here and reunite with our camping buddies, all will be well. Cuddled around the campfire, swapping stories, adult beverages in hand, there could be no better life, until... I feel a growing trickle of warmth flooding around me. Thank goodness the darkness hides my shame. Non one is aware that I am sitting in my own pee for the next hour.

I tell my inner Scarlet that tomorrow's another day. Tweedly-dee! 
No one is the wiser and I plan to keep it that way. My husband never understand why I insist on packing extra, extra clothing when we travel. Well...

There is nothing better than a mountain breakfast, especially when my groom is frying the eggs. Fresh coffee, crisp country air, a perfect view of the stream, the smell of bacon...that's the life. I cannot think of anything better to start our weekend in what we refer to as "the center of the universe." 

As per my routine while in this sanctuary, I refresh my cuppa in order to stroll over to the trout stream and breathe in the glory's of God's masterpiece. But, first my body decides to take a detour and land me face first in the dew damp grass when I step off the porch. Yep, an early morning face plant. At least no one witnessed it, so I can entertain my tears in private. I'll explain the mud on my cheek later...
Maybe the Monster will give up if I keep ignoring it...

After breakfast, it's  time to play.

We gather a willing group of folks to set up our croquet field. Young and old come, excited  for the chance to win the weekend's first set of winner's beads. Reigning champion Alexandra flexes her muscles and snarls at Mutt, her biggest competition. Newcomer Mallie nervously selects a mallet while "Little Man" Seth and "I'm No Looser" Gabe argue  over who will be next in the line up. Ryder grabs his favored black ball and LucyLou hugs her preferred blue to her chest. It has been decided that I will start the game in  first position and will lead the pack. Everyone is certain that my red ball will retain my second place status in the end. I rarely win.

Ready, set...And the games begin. Both my bladder and my legs are in full cooperation and nothing is said about my unsteady gait. When Mad Mutt knocks my ball out of contention, I take an unexpected turn of the ankle and down I go, spouting pee all the way. 

Fortunately, by this time, the only contestants left are too concerned with their final shot at victory to notice my disgrace and they all back away after I assure them that no assistance is needed. So, I scurry (Yeah, right. I haven't scurried in years.) off to the camping trailer to erase all evidence of my shame. Second pair of shorts stripped away in lieu of something dry. I decide to leave off the underwear t his time. There doesn't seem to be any sense in soiling another pair.

And I was right. So glad I packed for a six day weekend.

So, if anyone was wondering, the MonSter also likes to camp and thoroughly enjoyed itself this anniversary weekend. Lets  scraped, muscles strained, bladder giggling at my expense, I'm finally home and hoping to remain a hermit for a day or two. 

Fun is emotionally physically, mentally, and spiritually exhausting when MS insists on participating. Meant to take my mind off the emotional event of moving my son into his dorm this week, the pessimistic portion of my brain is already wearing me out. This move is supposed to be all about him, MonSter, so stay away. You had your fun last weekend. Be gone.

My biggest fear at this point in the MS journey is the reality of what is to come. Is my med working?  Is my diet healthy? Should I return to PT, even though the insurance won't over it? Will I live to see said son graduate from college? Morbid, I know, but it is what it is.

I'll save those thoughts for another day.

Meanwhile, check this  out:

FDA Approves 2 New Multiple Sclerosis Drugs: What You Need to Know

Have a great week,

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