Sleepless in Seattle and MS

I am an insomniac. For years I stayed up until 2 or 3 in the morning then sleep until about 6 or seven with maybe a small nap in the afternoons. Here in Seattle it is worse. I tend to go to bed at about 12am then wake up again at 4 when Bob goes to work. I will go back to bed for about two or three hours at 7am then I up until the wee hours of the morning, writing. This is only until the MS kicks in then I tend to sleep a lot. As if I am making up for lost time or resting for the days when I cannot sleep. Most of my time up is spent writing and listening to music on my iPod. I try to be somewhat quiet since Bob is sleeping but I do get noisy sometimes, like tonight, while watching TV. I know it’s loud, but he has not moved from the position he was in when I last checked on him so I think I am ok. The weather here is already mentioning snow and frost with fog. …then of course it is going to rain a cold rain. I am looking forward to the days of wrapping up in blanket and drinking tea all day and making stews and hearty soups. So after being up for a couple nights writing and catching up with the world what happens? Another damn MS attack. I had thought I was going outside and finding another coffee shop to write in since my favorite place, Third Place Books in Ravenna has revamped into some sort of restaurant. Instead I find myself confined in the house moving diligently from my bed to the couch. I cannot think enough to make myself a decent breakfast so I just drink tab water. I have to wait until Bob gets home to lift the Brita pitcher out of the refrigerator because it currently has too much water in it. The thing about it is that I think this is all in my head and to a certain extent it is, according to all the MS Society information I gathered, but I think sometimes I made this up for some sort of attention getting phase I am going through. I think maybe I’m becoming my mother. Oh shit! Not the I’m-turning-into-my-mother syndrome, I think all of us go through (don’t we)? I can see it now, me at 43 complaining to my sons how no one calls and asks if there is anything they could do. I can see me sitting in the same chair since God knows when and watching soap operas, game shows and Judge Judy while doing word searches. Oh no I already like word searches and Jeopardy. Damn maybe I am already her. My mother is great, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want to be her. I just can’t see myself without moving about; I can’t see being stuck in the house forever. I know I should not think this way but I am my mother’s daughter sometimes. I tend to go negative before the looking for the positive. So I fight this fatigue every day. I fight the icy feet, the numb face, hands and legs. Today I fight hard and pray I won’t have to as hard. I have nothing to go on except sleep and very little stretching to help me with moving throughout the day. Then I wait until Bob gets home so I can get him to open a can of soup and pour me some decent water then I will go back to bed and hope that I will feel fine when I wake up.