Wheels on fire

So, where are we on the sensory relapse?

Hug - all gone. Thank fudge.

Wet clothes feeling - mostly gone. Huzzah.

Sandpaper hands - stubbornly remaining. Sigh.

But, as Meatloaf once wisely trilled, two out of three ain't bad, so probably a suitable time to celebrate.

And because I don't like making life easy for myself, I decided to mark the occasion with a bike ride.

Now this may not have seemed wise for a variety of reasons: crap balance, ropey grip, general tiredness, non-MS-related clumsyness.

But I felt the need to do something to recognise the almost-out-the-end of the relapse state, so a bike ride it was.

Off we trooped as a family to a nearby (and mostly flat) country park and saddled up.

My word, what a joy it was. I balanced, I whizzed through puddles, I didn't have to think about anything except peddling and smiling.

The absolute best part was trusting my legs to be able to get me up a (very) small hill and then freewheeling my way down the other side, laughing like a small child.

It was completely exhilarating and made me proud, post relapse, of what my body can do and how my mind has dealt with it.

:: Wheels on fire by Julie Driscoll, Brian Auger and The Trinity