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What does it feel like to wake up with multiple sclerosis (MS)? Here’s a quick peek, in rhyme, at the reality of multiple sclerosis (MS). The hairy MS MonSter, who consumes myelin, may be horrid indeed.

Petit Chaperon Rouge illustration by Gustave Dore (1897)

Back to Square None?

An M.S. Morning Revealed

The MonSter waits beside my bed

To jump and jolt inside my head

And set my weary soles ablaze –

Oh, Lord, here comes one of those days.

I swallow hard and try to rise,

And blotches block out both my eyes.

Then reeling, with the world a-roll

I make mere standing my first goal.

Now suddenly, I feel an urge –

But wonder, will I drain or purge?

Oh, no. I’m melting. Now I’m hot.

What is this gruesome thing I’ve got?

My brain is banging ‘tween my ears,

Confirming all my darkest fears.

My fingers flutter as I lunge

For anything before I plunge.

Alas, I stumble; one foot fails.

I tumble downward, heads o’er tails.

Then, flopping on the floor I find

Discomfort of another kind.

For suddenly, from top to toe

Electric shock sets me aglow.

Too weak to stand, my frame a-twitch,

I ask, “What did my nerves bewitch?”

The inner workings of this beast

Are scary, hairy – in the least.

No heavy lifting he’ll permit,

When once the myelin he has bit.

With all I have, I find my way

Into the hall, this darkest day.

I stumble slowly down the stair,

Then wonder what I’m doing there.

Despite my words, I can’t explain

This Monster bringing numbness, pain.

Tomorrow I may walk a mile;

Today, I’ll have to sit a while.

c2010 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Posted for a variety of prompts:

Easy Street Prompts (“inner workings”)

Heads or Tails (“square”)

Meme Express (“heavy lifting”)

Monday Poetry Train (poem/s)

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