Was a Sunday afternoon at the end of September 4½ years ago. It was when I was in a Neurology Hospital (Queens Square in London) for 3 weeks and could only have the princess (only 2 at the time) and the little man (3 weeks old) visiting me 5-6 hours a day. It was when the sound of little feet running down the hall was the best sound in the world! (read) It was when an Irish woman was admitted to my ward.
She wore sunglasses, had curly black hair and a lot of it. She was chatty, smiley and we soon got talking. I asked why the sunglasses and she aswered MS. I suddenly felt relieved, hopeful, even happy because I was not the only one with MS.
She told me her relapses would come very suddenly. Like the other day when she was walking her three children to school and nursery. Suddenly she fell, luckily nothing happened and she managed to get the children where they needed to go and just got home before all energy was used up. She told all this with a very positive attitude and was just matter of fact about everything.
Then her husband rang. After talking to him she told me that he was struggling keeping things together, the children were upset missing their mummy, could she come home? She said, that it was more stressful being in hospital, that now the MS could do whatever, she was going home.... The next morning she discharged herself and was gone!
When the daddy, princess and little man came to visit me that morning, they were met by a happy, rosey cheeked, smiling, still paralysed but very hopeful and determined me. I felt there was nothing I couldn't do. The nurses all noticed, the family noticed, I noticed!
Was this woman there to tell me to get on with it, that life goes on? That giving up was not a choice I had? Was she my Guardian Angel?