5 Years Ago Today

A sign that says it all! Found it in a Tennessee Farm Museum.

Just like playing a game of Chess, only I can determine the moves that will make me succeed, and regardless of my opponents’ choices, only I get to decide where I move next.

I may be compelled one way or the other,

but I still have a choice.

Five years ago today I sat in a medical office and was told that I have Multiple Sclerosis. I made an immediate and decisive move that made all the difference in the world. 

I accepted the news and then allowed myself to experience all of the human emotions that you could imagine (grief, anger, fear, peace, etcetera). 

That decision has worked for me and I don’t regret it. Denial at that stage wasn’t for me. Hearing the diagnosis and going through the motions wasn’t for me either.

Given the options my next move was to become as pro-active as possible. But I wanted to decide what was best and right for me and I still live this way. 

If a suggestion, recommendation, or anything else doesn’t sound right or doesn’t sit well with me, then why waste time to evaluate? If a suggestion or recommendation has empirical data, I would study it before I decided anything.

Simply put, the ability to decide my next move in life always has been and will forever be, up to me. Maybe this is why I like the Tennessee sign so much (see above).

This life and the afterlife are what we make of it,

so why not live that way now and get acclimated to it?

Poetry Corner: Rubber-Band Girl Syndrome

So I have a stash of clothing of various sizes that I have to keep in storage. The reason I do this is because of what I call the “Rubber-Band Girl Syndrome”.

My body does this thing where it...fluctuates in size before, during, and after steroid treatments. This doesn’t seem to happen to everyone who has these treatments, but for me...let’s just say ElastaGirl has new meaning to me.

So, to add humor to the situation, a while back I wrote a poem about my ElastaGirl/Rubber-Band Girl Syndrome experience that I thought was pretty funny.

Note: this poem should be read with a sea-man sounding voice.

Parable of the Bosom

‘tween Me and Myself

I seldom forget my panties –

but much to my dismay,

when all put together,

do I notice my bosoms

dangle too low

so I heave and I ho

Me pulls the straps on my left,

Myself tourniquets the right;

‘til no more blood graces my veins

shoulder and ‘low

when mirror confronted

I see how silly this be

as bubbled in the center

is the makings of an udder…

in defeat I lower the anchors

and batten down the hatches,

telling myself:

‘tis better to surrender

in the end a good lesson is learned

for I am blessed to jiggle

and

there’s more of me to be yearned.

By Diana M. Bateman

I Want To Laugh

Diana going down the Zip Line at the Utah Olympic Park.

Turn the volume up and press play to laugh at her and her very serious fear of heights.

I want to laugh, so I am just gonna' put some things on here that are guaranteed to make me giggle. So I hope they work for you too.

From Lily Tomlin in the hit play The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe (written by Ms. Jane Wagner).

• “All my life I’ve wanted to be somebody. But now I see that I should’ve been more specific.”
• "I'd do better at something creative, but somehow I lack talent to go with it, and being creative without talent is a bit like being a perfectionist and not being able to do anything right."
• "You'd think by now evolution could've at least evolved us to the point where we could change ourselves."
• "I can take reality in small doses, but as a lifestyle I think it's too confining."
• "Goin' crazy was the best thing ever happened to me. I don't say it's for everybody; some people couldn't cope.”
• “I refuse to be intimidated by reality anymore.”
• “What’s reality anyway? Reality is nothin’ but a collective hunch.”

Jack Handy, American Writer and cast member of Saturday Night Live from 1991-2003. Jack is famous for his Deep Thoughts.

• “I hope that someday we’ll be able to put away our fears and prejudices and just laugh at people.”

Emotional Health... cough, cough

We all have “sucks to be me” moments, but why is this one taking so long? It is human to feel sad on occasion, but come to find out, when you have MS there is an increased risk that you can get a lesion that affects your mood and general emotional health. The medications that we take can also cause sadness or depression. How rude! Thank heaven for cute husbands, religion, doctors, yoga, cute dogs, gardening and music. I haven’t figured out all the secrets to life yet, but I am pretty sure that we are meant to LIVE IT...(*ahem*)...but recently, I haven’t been, and quite frankly it has sucked.

So, I go through the motions. I do the things on the “to do” list. I pay the bills. And then for some reason I sit and stare - thinking of nothing in particular and just feel sad. 2:30am eventually rolls around and I am either just falling asleep or suddenly awake with nothing in particular on my mind. I hate 2:30am. But I love my life.


I have asked myself many times, “How do you remain positive and hopeful when you have a tendency towards melancholy?” I don’t think I have a definitive answer, but I’ve found comfort and peace in reading about the great historical figures of American history. I feel excitement and exhilaration in the beauty of the earth and extreme landscapes, so I visit those places or look at pictures and read about them. Music has vital importance in my life and certain songs are reliable for pulling me into a better mental place. I’m sure in later blogs I will share some of them. For now, just know that logically we must experience these less than favorable moments, so that the antithesis of this crud can be as spectacular and joyful as they are meant to be.

The Military & Multiple Sclerosis

I never thought I would marry into the military...

or have the need to say, “I have MS”.

When I first met my husband he was in the Army National Guard, now he is in the Air National Guard. I have experienced a lot as a military wife and I am sure to experience a lot more; I’ve no regrets. Regardless if you are Active military or National Guard, when you have MS, being a military family is incredibly challenging. As a matter of fact, being a military family is a lot like having MS.

There is a large amount of unpredictability, a physical and emotional roller-coaster, a lot of “hurry up and wait”, as well as moments of incredible learning about who you are and how far your limits extend. Patience is tried, but there are also moments of accomplishment.

When my husband went through his Officer training in Tennessee, there was a graduation program at the completion that I was able to attend. This program was a big deal, so the commencement was not a small event.

During the evening portion of the event, there was a table with a display that represented the fallen soldiers of all the military branches. I was touched at how the table was displayed. A representative in uniform for each branch carried a dress hat and walked slowly to the cadence of a very somber air. The great hall was very quiet throughout the presentation, with an air of respect, sorrow, devotion, absence, honor, memory, and love...at that moment you were on hallowed ground. It is the memory of this experience that comforts me beyond explanation.

No matter our lot in life, regardless of our trials, 
human life...living life is so precious and important that I know I can’t waste a moment of it.

I cry. I have bitter moments. I feel loss and frustration, but when I am through feeling these emotions that any human has the right to feel, I then have a responsibility to carry on and do what I can do - serving others that are still within arms reach.

I am at war. I’m a soldier fighting for normalcy, functionality, happiness, and me; and when I fall, I expect you to be there for me. I could share more military and MS experiences, but the one I have shared here is the most applicable. I have a little motto that I like to say a lot. I have said it in this blog before and it is a good one to keep in mind.

Living your life based on the unpredictability of MS can be

more detrimental than the disease itself.

To withhold opportunities, activities, and goals because you aren’t sure how your MS is going to affect you from day to day, only makes for a lonely and unhappy existence.

The military factor is nothing more than another obstacle. So I have to find someone else to inject my arms when Josh is gone. I have sole responsibility to maintain our home and finances...but I have also been blessed with awesome family, neighbors, co-workers, friends, and community. The thing that makes the biggest difference is letting these people in to help me when I am going it alone. Yes, it is hard. Yes, it isn’t fun when Josh is deployed or at drill when I need him, but it all boils down to the same thing regardless of the situation and that is how I let it affect me.

My husband is currently gone with the military for the next year. Earlier in the week, I was just fine. Yesterday I was miserable. Today I am sad, but productive. Tomorrow...tomorrow will be what tomorrow brings, but for now the forecast is positive.

Caretaker = Unsung Hero

Sometimes referring to a dictionary just doesn’t cut it. The reason that I am disappointed in the dictionary is because of the definition of a “caretaker”. 

If you were to look up the word "caretaker", you would get the following: “One that is employed to look after or take charge of goods, property, or a person; a custodian.” (Webster) Now that sounds fine, but it still misses the mark. To me, the definition of a “caretaker” would be better suited to say something like this:

“One who selflessly renders total support and

maintenance of goods, property, or person

without deadline or complaint.”

Caretakers, under my newly stated definition, clearly embody: Moms (which is the reason for my photo below), spouses, partners, children and anyone who is really willing to do the job (which makes room for a lot of people). I have two examples of a caretaker that I would like to share.

My nephew Andy has a tender heart and watchful eye. Andy is 8 years old and has been a helpful caretaker since the day he could walk. He spent the most impressionable years of his life watching his father lovingly and selflessly perform as a caretaker to my MS-affected sister; giving shots, cleaning, assisted living (on various levels), acting as a confidant and so on. To this day Andy watches over his mother like the average 8 year old would over his prized Spiderman toy.

Granted, Andy is the only one that is allowed to be mean or upset with my sister, but he makes darn sure that no one else talks bad toward his mother and that doors are opened, toys are off of the floor, dishes are put in the sink, and much more.

The second caretaker that I want to highlight is my husband, Josh. I am continually amazed by my husband. He has endless energy, incredible knowledge and desire to learn more, and has an innate loving kindness towards all cultures, people, and me.

With the aforementioned in mind, I think it is easy to see what an awesome caretaker (and spouse) Josh is, but let’s look at my favorite top attributes, for example and for giggles:

1. His simply being a listening ear can work wonders.
2. Helping with injections, shows a willingness in him to take part in this life-trial, which in turn makes me not feel so alone in this disease.
3. He will just hold me, when my body can’t handle anything else.
4. He provides a fun attitude to distract me from dwelling on the negative; especially when everything feels so overwhelming.
5. He massages my limbs when the limberness fades or when there is pain.
6. He provides logic and reasoning when I have none left to contribute.

Josh & Diana in the Black Swamp of South Carolina

I titled this entry “Caretaker = Unsung Hero” because of how pivotal that role is in our lives. I frankly feel that the caretaker doesn’t get enough recognition or due praise in our society. I also have felt that the definition of the caretaker role wasn’t as succinct as it should be. Caretakers don’t just work, they suffer. They don’t just operate in the background; they are the backdrop that makes everything around them beautiful. Caretakers take the lead, finding new options and energy when there was none left to be had.

Caretakers are the constant heroes 
of our everyday lives.

The Importance of Music

My most favorite song is “Through Your Hands” by John Hiatt as performed by Joan Baez. I was introduced to this song by a college roommate in 1994 and it has been a major comfort since; as well as an adopted theme song of my life.

Through Your Hands (by John Hiatt)

You were dreaming on a park bench

about a broad highway somewhere

When the music from the carillon

seemed to hurl your heart out there

Past the scientific darkness, past the

fireflies that float

To an angel bending down to wrap you

in her warmest cloak

And you ask "What am I not doing?"

She says, "Your voice cannot command,

In time you will move mountains

And it will come through your hands."

Still you argue for an option, still you angle for your case

Like you wouldn't know a burning bush if it blew up in your face

Yeah, we scheme about the future and we dream about the past

When just a simple reaching out could build a bridge that lasts

And you ask "What am I not doing?"

She says, "Your voice cannot command,

In time you will move mountains

And it will come through your hands."

So whatever your hands find to do you must do with all your heart

There are thoughts enough to blow men's minds and tear great worlds apart

There's a healing touch to find you on that broad highway somewhere

To lift you as high as music running through an angel's hair

Don't ask what you are not doing

'Cause your voice cannot command

And in time we will move mountains

And it will come through your hands