#5 Did ads and ethics make me a recluse?

The puritan ethics my father taught me--hard work, tenacity, a stiff upper lip and keeping your problems to yourself -- are all important tools to use in navigating through life (especially in school and work).

Likewise, there are some great motivational advertising messages that can serve you well, like "just do it", "go for the gusto", or "be all that you can be" and "it takes a licking and keeps on ticking". (Remember "better living through chemistry"? --but that's another story.)

Combine these messages with MS and you've got the perfect formula for disaster.
With those principles in place, I was not going to use any assistance to do anything until it beat me over the head.

First: The Cane. Someone gave me a cane and I was positively annoyed. I gave it to a friend's mother. Meanwhile I made regular embarrassing not to mention painful, dives earthward-- like in the middle of a crosswalk with the light turning red or stepping out of a car in front of a crowd at valet parking. Still too proud for a cane...let's see how ridiculous/dangerous would the trip need to be to concede the need for assistance? How about diving sideways into glass shelves filled with hair products at the hair dresser--taking out the shelves, a few patrons, and hundreds of bottles of shampoo? Would that be enough?

Ok ok--I will use a cane, but only if it's cute.

Next up: the walker. Oh no not me...only little old ladies use those things. If I can't walk with just a cane, I'll wall-walked around my own house. But you know what they say about accidents in the home. I crashed into coffee tables, bloodied up the patio, almost killed my dog who was breaking my fall, fell over backwards out of the shower (that prompted me to install a shower bar--what would it take for a walker?). How about 3 hours in the emergency room with 2 broken ribs from wall walking while carrying a glass of water (it takes 2 hands to successfully "wall walk").

Ok ok--I will use a walker--but only at home--I certainly wouldn't want anyone to think I'm "handicapped"--drunk maybe--while staggering around--or terminally clumsy -- or possibly a recluse--but not the dreaded disabled!

So now I was stubbornly stuck at home. I love my home--but not 24/7...