I'm coming out

I've lived with MS for so long now that I sometimes forget that everyone else around me doesn't know I have it.

I talk about it, I blog about it, I tweet about it. (I should perhaps sometimes shut up about it.) So surely it's out there enough.

But this week I was reminded that actually not everyone does know.

Despite my May relapse I have carried on working - this is mainly because I am self-employed and have no safety net apart from myself, but also because I picked up a really interesting new project just as the relapse started.

As a purely sensory one, this relapse has been unpleasant but not completely debilitating. I've been tired and very, very uncomfortable, but to look at me, you wouldn't know.

So it was a little odd this week that I found myself suddenly on the office floor and blurting out my situation to relatively new colleagues.

The scene: typing at my laptop (only mis-hitting every fourth key now, the hands are picking up) I decided to do the team round of teas.

Stand up, take one step, fall immediately on floor.

All heads turn.

Try to stand, fail, dramatically fall over again.

My immediate thoughts were - a) oh no, is this the sudden start of something new and horribly MS-ey or b) is it just a shoe issue?

You see I was wearing some new work trousers which were slightly too long. To stop them dragging on the floor and creating a trip hazard, I'd had to dig out an old pair of wedges - with a slightly dodgy heel.

Sitting on the floor with confused colleagues asking me what had happened, I gave them the two potential options and cheerfully mentioned I had a stick in my bag if I needed it.
Not the way I had thought I might out myself.

After the concerned witnesses had got me back on my chair, made me a cup of tea and fetched copious biscuits, I was able to give a bit more of an explanation.

It's become so normal now for me to talk about MS and I've told so many people in so many different ways over the years. But never yet from the floor of a busy office.

I'm not sure if it will get mentioned again, I'm a contractor who's only in one day a week and haven't had chance to get to know everyone very well yet.

But I was boosted by their thoughtful concern, their gentle questions - and the lovely girl who ran for some mounting spray and sellotape in an attempt to fix things.

Because it turns out that this time it was the heel of my wedge that had come adrift and resulted in a twisted ankle - and not multiple sclerosis.

But their quiet and kindly reassurance was good for the sole.*

The offending shoe. With emergency sellotape attached.

:: I'm coming out by Diana Ross

*Bad pun intended.