Living In Holland (or Living with Multiple Sclerosis) By Gwen Pennock March, 2006 Ive always equated having my life with Multiple Sclerosis with planning a vacation. Everyone lives their life planning for retirement. You make all kinds of preparations for when we reach that golden age. Oh, you think it will be wonderful. I imagine my life as planning a trip to Paris. I have worked and done what I need to do to make it a special trip. I imagine that I board the plane with great expectations. Suddenly, we have an emergency landing and I find myself in Holland, perhaps permanently. Holland is beautiful and has breath taking sights, but it isnt Paris. It isnt where I want to be at this time in my life. I feel pretty bad that all my plans have been interrupted. But at the same time, I cant help enjoying the place where I am. Its not so bad. I could have landed in much worse places. So, I have accepted the fact that I live in Holland. Every time a doctor said that there is nothing he can do for me, I cried. Many times Bob held me as I slowly realized that I would never see Paris. I had to get used to Holland. I have! I found all the beautiful things about my life and have happily accepted it as it is. Bob was the only one that I told my Paris/Holland story to at first. He was the only one that knew what I meant when I cried in the Doctors offices and said Ill never see Paris. Let me backtrack a moment. After I was diagnosed my friend made a wooden wall hanging of Holland for me. She didnt have the money to buy me a present for Christmas so she made me something. Until a few weeks ago, she had no idea what that gift meant to me. I told her why that scenic view hangs on the outside of the door to my house. It has nothing to do with not wanting to hurt her feelings. I feel like Im entering beautiful Holland every time I open my door. She smiled at the idea of the irony of it all. The reason I finally told her my story was because now on a string attached to the wooden Holland plaque is a key to Paris. I have the key to Paris !! Bob found a key marked PARIS on it in a parking lot and brought it home to me. Now when I enter my house I enter with the knowledge that I can still possibly go to Paris someday. I have the key. And whats even better, I have the necessary faith.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Nov 2014 21:00:32 +0000
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