Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

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Let Me Tell You About My Mother

By Jody Smith HERWriter May 10, 2009 - 1:00am
 
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Let me tell you about my mother.

She has been my best girl friend for most of my life. She was actively involved in the raising and clothing and shepherding of my five kids. They grew up thinking of her house as their second home.

She only stands about 5' 5", but on the inside she must be at least a 6 footer.She is feisty and clannish and would protect me with the ferocity of a lioness. There is nothing she would not do for her family.

She has a history of this. When her brother (older brother) got picked on, she would go sailing in to battle with zeal, a little spit-fire, giving those bullies what-for. When she was a young mother and any of her children had problems at school, she marched into the Principal's office expecting justice. When one of us was in the hospital, she was there, making sure we were getting the best care, getting answers from doctors and nurses. Getting results.

Man, she's awesome.

But even she got stymied by CFS. She couldn't do anything about the symptoms, she couldn't stop pieces of my life falling off because of exhaustion and brain stupefication. She couldn't stop the vertigo, the weird sensations, the tininitis. She couldn't take away the seasick nausea.

Still, she found inroads. She brought me money. She brought me presents. She brought me supplements that might help. She still brings me a bottle of B12 every month, and has done this for two years.

She gave another gift that helped keep me anchored to the rest of the world. She phoned me, every few days, dropped by to see me every week. She didn't lose her poise no matter how bad I looked some days. No matter how disjointed my thoughts, She would listen patiently through my stops and starts, and Lord only knows whether I was making sense all that time. Alot of the time I was. But I was also slow, repetitive and wandering much of the time. Some days I couldn't really talk, so she would talk. And when she noticed my head starting to droop she knew it was time for me to go to bed and she'd say good-bye so I could do that.

 
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We value and respect the experiences of all of our HERWriters, but everyone is different. Many of our writers are speaking from personal experience, and what's worked for them may not work for you. Their articles are not a substitute for medical advice although we hope you can gain knowledge from their insight.

Jody Smith HERWriter View Profile Send Message

Who am I and why am I here? Valid questions. I'd have to start, though, with -- who was I? Eighteen ...

http://www.ncubator.ca

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