A New High

When I’m feeling bad, it comes in the form of pain, tingling, fatigue or all of the above.  Sometimes when this happens, I start to feel bad for my husband because it must really suck to have a wife with MS.  To make myself feel better, I remind myself that he knew I had MS before he married me.  We had the discussion about what that could mean for our future and he still made the choice to marry me.  But then I start to feel bad for my parents and my children, because none of them had a choice to have a daughter or a mom with MS.  The weird thing is, I almost never feel sorry for myself.  It is just not something that occurs to me.  It is not in my nature.   Part of what keeps me from feeling sorry for myself is that I always keep in mind that there are so many other people out there in the world that live a much harder life than I do.

A couple of weeks ago, I visited my BFF who lives in the LA area.  (For all of you out there out of touch, BFF stands for ‘best friend forever.’  This is a term usually heard in elementary school; I just say it because it’s more fun to say “my BFF,” than it is to say “my friend.”  If you don’t believe me, try it!)  While I was there, Kristeen told me about the homeless duo that she sees on her drive to and from work every day.  She told me that they are always in the same spot no matter what day or time it is, and they are most likely mentally disabled.  She has taken it upon herself to bring them both a lunch every day.  Kristeen is trying to get her whole company involved in doing this.  She wants everyone to pick one person in need and bring them lunch every day.  If everyone made just one extra sandwich a day, they could feed so many people with very little money out of pocket.  On the way to the airport after my visit, she took me to meet the two she had told me about and drop of a dinner for them.  I felt so good after doing this!

I experienced a similar high after something that happened yesterday. When my daughter and I were pulling into a parking lot to leave a car for my husband, we were forced to drive around a broken down pickup truck being pushed slowly up an incline by the tired-looking owner.  I told my daughter that we should try to help him, thinking that someone else would get there to help him first.  I saw a young man standing close by.  He had on a black hoody that was pulled over his head and tattoos on his knuckles.  He did not really look like he would help out; he looked more like he just wanted to be invisible.  However, there were two more cars behind me that had to drive around the broken down truck in need, as well.  I thought surely one of them would help the man, but no one did.  When I finished parking my car, the man was still there, needing help.  We walked over to him and asked if we could help him.  He explained that he was just trying to push the truck up the small hill so he could jump it on the way back down.  I told him to get in and we would push while he tried to jump it.  As we started pushing the truck, the rough looking young man walked over and started to push with us.  When we heard the engine turn over, the young man looked at me and smiled as he gave me a fist-bump.  We all felt good.  The tired worker got his car started, the young man no longer felt as if he had to be invisible, and my daughter and I felt the high of helping a stranger.

My challenge to you this week is to find someone in need of help, and give it to them.  I promise it feels good!

Posted in: Happiness, Multiple Sclerosis