Unbelievable but true!

Having MS, the funny things

Responding to a call to see the doctor, after an hour of sitting in the waiting room in Moorfield’s Eye Hospital, I stumbled and twisted my right ankle. That had formerly been my good leg but just when I needed its support it betrayed me. Such is MS. The doctor helped me hop to the consultation area where I did a few exercises on that ankle. When he was done examining my eye I managed to get to the lift and hop out through the door to the road where I flagged down a London taxi to take me to Paddington station. At the driver’s behest I explained my plight to the taxi rank manager who pulled out his radio and summoned a support vehicle to take me to the right train, where he placed me on a seat near the front of the train and instructed the driver. The engine driver parked the train with that door right next to the lift in my local station. The following day my ankle was turning blue and swelling badly so I rang the MS Nurse. The answering machine explained that MS nurses do not work the same hours as MS and referring me to the MS Helpline, who referred me to NHS Direct, there being no chance of getting a community nurse to come and tell me what to do about my ankle. The man at NHS direct went through the checklist on his screen – I told him I was keeping my appointment at Moorfield’s Eye Hospital when I twisted my right ankle. He told me to go to A&E and get it X rayed ending with the question, “Can you drive?”
Um, not with my eyesight messed up and my right ankle out of action, no!

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Taking part in a campaign to set up a new low cost loans system in a large town I grew tired and hungry, cold rain running down the back of my neck. So I wandered off to a small branch of Burger King and found a corner seat to rest, while eating a burger and drinking hot coffee. A group of gospel singers in full costume on a mission from Africa to convert Britain to Christianity walked in. Seeing my walking stick they decided to perform a miracle. They set up in the shop among the tables and sang with much gusto to banish my crippledness. At the end the leader demanded I trust them enough to throw away my stick and walk. I smiled politely, thanked them and left by the side door as they vociferously blessed me again.  

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Walking along the sea front at Weston Super Mare I was accosted by two strange women, one of whom was “in my face”. Suspecting another attempted mugging was taking place I hitched my walking stick up and caught it mid stem so that I could use it as a defence weapon should she try to grab my handbag, its strap securely across my shoulder and opening part firmly held under the left elbow. She spoke to me about her religious beliefs. For the first time in years I had seen the sea, the sand, some seagulls and over her shoulder I spied an ice cream stand. I tried to escape but she demanded I respond to her so I told her that because I have MS God and I are not on speaking terms. Before she let me go she took my hand and said, “I hereby banish your MS in the name of Jesus. Trust me, I’m a maths teacher.”
Stemming the instinct to laugh in her pathetic well-meaning face I told her I had been blessed before and that didn’t work either before leaving for the ice cream stall.

Later I related that event to the couple I was to spend the weekend with. It was met with silence. The husband said, “I’m a maths teacher.” 
”And do you go around banishing MS in the name of Jesus?”
He never replied. In fact I don’t think he ever spoke to me again all weekend. Seemed like a nice man.