Stay

We've just had a sunny few days in Stratford, a place we absolutely love.

Usually it's just hubby and me making a day trip of it. Occasionally we'll manage an overnighter with theatre thrown in.

But this time it was a couple of nights with our daughter too, so slightly fewer tea shops and slightly more buying of near-teenage must haves.

It was a lovely chance to spend some time together that wasn't disturbed by work worry or house faff or general tedious admin. There was a lot of laughing.

The last time we went was just before the pandemic really took hold and the first lockdown came into force.

Back then I was reflecting on how my MS had moved on and, among the laughter and activity, this trip brought similar comparisons.

I know I'm progressing. I can tell by the amount of streets I can manage without a break, by the number of Tudor museum steps I can climb easily and by the help I now need to mount the huge Ferris wheel which offers spectacular views of Stratford.

What I don't want though, is for one of my favourite places to become the yardstick by which I track my deterioration.

However, rather than avoid it, we will continue going to Stratford, continue drinking ludicrous amounts of tea in its many cafes and continue making my way through its familiar streets.

MS won't stop, I know this. But if I can help Stratford stay as one of my happy places, then I will concentrate my limited energy on doing that.

:: Stay by Shakespeare's Sister

You & Me Song

It was my birthday at the weekend, my 15th with MS.

I don't normally tend to acknowledge my MS alongside celebrations for my advancing years, but this year I did think about it.

Things have changed since my last birthday - the result of two relapses within seven months - and the difference between my 43rd birthday and 44th were clear to me.

I went out for dinner with friends the night before my big day. This proved more of an issue than it would have previously - I needed help fastening jewellery, I couldn't wear the higher heels, I struggled with the cutlery and I was limited to only ONE celebratory gin.

Given the evening out before, there was no huge party on my big day itself. I knew I'd have to spend the day itself quietly. So I did.

The day after my birthday my husband and I booked a day off work and went on a day trip to Stratford-upon-Avon, one of our favourite places.
Stratford was as delightful as ever; the cafes, the shops, the RSC and the swans.

But it's clear that I'm struggling now to do the walking along the river like I used to, to consider booking a play without worrying I'll be unwell or even manage to be much of a conversationalist by the end of the trip. Poor hubby.

I realise that progression is inevitable in MS - just as I'm brutally aware that comparison is the thief of joy.

It's very, very difficult with a progressive disease to not think back to how things were - before diagnosis, five years ago, last birthday. But it's not useful, not healthy and certainly not helpful.

So while I'm not sure how my 45th birthday will be, I can only keep the words of the bard himself in mind: "With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come."

:: You & Me Song by The Wannadies