Green eyes

Of the seven deadly sins, I reckon I’ve made my way through a fair few. Sometimes all in one go.*

It’s tricky to know which of the seven – lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy or pride – is the most commonly experienced. 

Although in a world full of a) humans and b) human nature, I’m pretty sure you could make a case for each of them.

But the one I’ve been aware of most during my MS life is envy.

It's certainly not there all the time, it absolutely doesn't stop me being happy for other people; but it is a part of my MS experience and that’s not a pretty thing to admit.

It’s not the simple envy of that woman in the office’s fabulous new sky-scraper heels. Or her photographs of an exotic and sunkissed holiday.

And it’s not even about her tales of her spontaneous fun while wearing the fabulous shoes in the exotically sunkissed location.

No, it’s not the things themselves - it's more what those things represent. 
It’s the fact that she can wear and do and enjoy all these things without even having to think about it. Or at least, not as much as I would have to think about it.

To the outside observer, there are a lot of glaringly obvious difficulties with having a disability. But there are also small things that can bring on the green mist. The endless niggly little things that I never even had to consider in my life pre-MS.

So if I applied these niggly little things to the imaginary sunkissed - or in our case typically British-weathered - holiday, they would include:

Do any of my seemingly endless medical appointments clash with the holiday dates? Where is the nearest doctor/dentist/hospital/chemist? Where are the regular and emergency toilet stops on the journey? Will I be able to organise my drug pick up times to ensure my meds co-ordinate with my break? If I go for a paddle with my daughter in the morning will that wipe me out the rest of the day? How do we co-ordinate relaxed family eating out around my tablets? Exactly what insane volume of clothing will I have to pack to cover all my temperature issues? (Although to be fair, this last one is well known to anyone holidaying in the UK.)

Do I own anything vaguely decent that I can wear in public that won’t touch my skin in a hugely painful manner? What outfit best accessorises with a stick? Am I going to play it safe in the flats or risk toppling in the heels? Why does my already fine hair have to be at the mercy of a hair thinning but (hopefully) disease modifying drug? Exactly how polite are people actually being when I can’t see well enough to apply my eyeliner but they don’t want to point out the wonky?

So, imaginary office colleague - you are the woman I used to be - and I am jealous of you.

I’m jealous of a life free from the big MS challenges and the small MS annoyances. I’m jealous of your spur-of-the-moment, no planning, boundless freedom.

Yes, I know you'll have your own problems that I know nothing about and I'm also very aware that comparison is the thief of joy.
So I try my very, very best not to be jealous - I don’t want to be, but sometimes I just am.

Admitting it seems utterly churlish. You are welcome to share your pictures and your holiday stories. You are unaware of my experience and that is not your fault.

So I'm glad you had a good holiday, I really am.
But just today I don’t think I can face looking at your photos. 
Especially if you’re wearing those shoes.

:: Green eyes by Coldplay 

*It was a messy night.