This is, as usual, is a long ass story. If you don't feel like reading it, Shut up and leave.

The Brain, the Twitch, and the Urge to Disrobe

If you frequent Mrs. Denotsko's page, you read this story. If you don't, read this story. It's one I have, for lack of a better word, avoided telling. Not because it's painful or depressing; but I fear sympathy. People are not all that much unlike lemmings. One snags his eyelid with a fishhook, and everybody wants to say 'Oh how horrible it must feel!', 'Is there anything I can do to help?', 'Please do try to be strong. Have faith that God will watch over you.'

Gimme a fucking break! On the inside, you are all are saying (even though you won't admit it to anyone, let alone yourself) ' What a sorry fucker.', 'Sure am glad I didn't win that coin toss.', 'WOW! Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy (that's not me)' I am a product of circumstance. Just like all of you, I say the same shit. Pity me not. My only regret is that I have only but one life to.... Fuck it. Just read the story. As usual, if you're short on time, come back when you have more. I'm one long winded sumbitch.

As Mrs. Denotsko said,(told you to read it, now your lost) I have MS. I won't go into some shit asking you to start a chain letter for me or sell baked goods at WalMart or collect little pull tabs from your Bud cans to buy me another minute of life. I'm here to tell the funny side of things.

My neurologist, we'll call him Dr. Fleischer because that's his name, suggested I start taking weekly intramuscular shots as a preventive treatment. I'm not big on needles; but I'm even not bigger on being numb on one side, so I decided it wouldn't kill me. Before I continue, let me say that as one who has been there, never decide something 'won't kill' you till all the facts are in. He warned me that the side effects of the shot could be unpleasant. He said to expect sore achy muscles and flu-like crapiness. He suggested that I take over the counter pain relievers before and after the shot to combat feeling shitty.

My wife and I were both a little shy to stab a long piece of steel into my thigh, so we enlisted the help of a friend of a friend to do it. She was a nurse in the OB/GYN clinic at the hospital I work in. About an hour after the shot, I started to feel the sore muscles. The dull ache slowly built into what I can only describe as pain. I decided it was time to take a break from the job I was working on, and went outside with a friend to have a smoke. By the end of the smoke, I had decided it was time to take a break from work altogether. By the time I had walked the entire length of the hospital back to the shop, my supervisor decided it was time to go to the E.R. My muscles were steadily getting stiffer. They would clench and release, clench and release. Giving the impression of a semi-slow speed seizure. My skin hurt. Have you ever had too much to drink and fallen into bed with your clothes still on? The next morning, when you took your shoes and socks off, the little hairs on your ankles hurt; or maybe you wore a pony tail in your hair too long, and felt the pain of your hair follicles returning to their proper alignment. Imagine that over your entire body. It hurt to wear clothes.

Once in the E.R., I was tossed onto a table and hooked to various bits of computerized hardware. As the machines beeped, and the nurses took blood pressure and temperature readings, the doctor wanted to ask a few questions. I told him in my very best every muscle in my body is stiff then not stiff English that I was recently diagnosed with MS and had taken a shot prescribed by my neurologist. I'm told this took about 45 minutes with the stuttering and twitching. He asked where I went for the shot. I told him OB/GYN. He looked confused, so I let someone else explain it.

They gave me a lot of different shots in an effort to stop the twitching. Finally a drug used to treat Parkinson's Disease stopped the worst of it. I was quite drugged by this point and have been told that I called everyone who talked to me Fucker. I have no recollection of this and doubt the credibility of the fuckers who say such things. I went home and slept for a day and was back at work.

Dr. Fleischer was puzzled by my reaction to the drug. He said that as far as he knew, no one had ever reacted that way to it. After a week or two he proposed that, just for the sake of science, we try again. He was not totally convinced that my reaction was the result of the shot. If it happened again, then we would know. Having suffered a near complete blackout of the last shot experience, I was game to try again. What the fuck. It's not like it would kill me.

The plan for shot two was simple. I come to work, take the shot, if anything happened, I would call the doc and meet him in the ER. This shot took longer to really take hold of me. I knew what to expect and fought it with all my might. I hurt sooooo much; but I refused to admit defeat. I would not go to the ER again. I walked and paced the floor for hours. I could beat this shit. I did too. I eventually quit cramping and twitching. I eventually slept. Except that this time, I remembered it.

What follows is the E-mail I sent to my neurologist regarding the second shot.

Sir,

I just want to let you know that I will not be taking that shot again. I was not twitching or convulsing like last time; but only by sheer force of will and intense concentration. I guess I was a little in denial about how bad it was the first time, what with all the stuff being pumped into me in the ER. This is some bad stuff. Ive been around and seen some stuff in my life. Ive wrecked cars, bikes, motorcycles, skateboards.fallen out of a moving speedboat, jumped into Lake Michigan in sub-freezing weather. Ive fallen 2 stories onto the hood of a truck. Ive even been shot. None of it compares with that shot.

I suppose taking this vile potion could, in the long run, save me from some degree of incapacitation from a potentially debilitating condition which I may or may not develop at some point in the future; but I cant stand that every week on a maybe. I think I will just put on some rose colored glasses and think happy thoughts. Maybe its not MS. If it is, it might not be so bad. Ive always thought it would be cool to know how to read Braille. I can have wheelchair races with my kids and get a job delivering groceries to first floor apartments. Think about how nice it would be to always have a parking space reserved for you right outside the store. There doing amazing thing in robotics now days. Perhaps I can have an exoskeleton made that will keep me mobile for decades into the future.

If you would like, we can try one of the other medications.