MS & Me

Following up on Emma’s post last week about the good days, I would like to invite you to what thus far was not one of my better days since being diagnosed with MS.

Happiness is not the point, it is not the goal; it is a by-product of a multitude of actions. The daily irritants and toxic effects of life with MS can be turned into something phenomenal.

*The dawn of 2016 brings a break between literal and figurative storms. We look forward to a new year, a better year and another year of the MS & Me Blog *

“Christmas time, Mistletoe and wine...” the festive season is finally upon us and with that comes the certainty that the New Year is only around the corner. It is that time of year when we look backward and forward at the same time like Janus the Roman God of Beginnings. We look back on the year past with a wide range of emotions- happiness, joy, anger and regret, to mention but a few-  and look forward to the new year with a completely different set, mainly expectation tinged with apprehension.

Thursday, 3rd December 2015

To coincide with the Better Options College Fair 2016, Aoife shares with you, her experience as a student with a 'disability' 

I was on my way to pick up the kids from soccer practice the other day when I realised I had forgotten my phone! It was too late to make it back home to retrieve it and as it turned out, I had to wait a while for the final whistle. With my only other option being the car manual, I decided to re-read the package leaflet for my MS meds. Every time I get a new pack, I toss the tiny paper concertina aside and pop the plastic bubble to get my daily dose. I had read the entire thing when I started taking them almost two years ago and to be honest- it was tough going.

Superheroes and Witnesses

Budget 2016 has reduced some people within the MS community to utter despair.

IMMA, otherwise known as the Museum of Modern Art in Kilmainham, always makes me imagine the dignified ghosts of old army pensioners sitting around the courtyard of the Royal Hospital in their distinctive Chelsea-pensioner red uniforms of ex-servicemen. There is a soothing feeling about the place; that of a job done, of rest, of a routine of predictable meals and duties. I am just being fanciful; I’ve never encountered anything there but modern art, but it does make me wonder about what it was like to live in the routine and care of an  old institution.