The Boring Straight and Narrow

Lately I have been comparing my life to major league baseball players. I know that sounds crazy, but stay with me. I find that in order to keep my life on an even keel, I am almost superstitious in what I need to do to avoid a possible undesirable outcome.

We’ve all seen Derek Jeter of the New York Yankees, when he first comes up to bat, extend his right arm towards the stands. You don’t think that is to alert folks sitting behind home plate to be careful of a foul tip do you? No, that’s Jeter’s superstition that if he didn’t do that it would not bode well for him.

Or how about Dustin Pedroia of the Boston Red Sox before he was sidelined because of a hand problem? After every swing and miss at the plate, he would step back and adjust both of his gloves, ripping off the Velcro fasteners on each hand then tightening back into position. He does this every single time.

For me, dealing with MS has prompted me to follow my own sets of superstitions to avoid getting into trouble. For instance, my body doesn’t like pizza. My brain loves pizza. On those occasions where my head rules my body, I munch down several slices and am ever so happy. Then the body takes over and the carbs of the pizza (which turn into sugar) rear their ugly heads and I become weak and non-functioning.

It’s the same way with skipping my Baclofen, usually by mistake. My legs stiffen up and I become non-functioning. Ditto with ingesting too much salt or straight sugar. Lord help me with Halloween around the corner. The pitfalls surrounding me are many and varied.

If I would just become an automaton and keep to my rigid meal schedule, my body would be happy with me. But my meals are probably the most boring on the planet: hardboiled egg with applesauce in the morning; cottage cheese and fruit for lunch; a protein shake for snack; some form of protein, vegetables and a salad for supper. You would think I would be model-sized eating that stuff. But, no I am not.

That is because I am NOT the female equivalent of Jeter or Pedroia. I constantly sneak in those goodies destined to make my life troublesome. I’m not sure if I am in a situation of my own making: i.e. by eating healthy my body now knows the difference and rebels every time I eat some Reese’s peanut butter cups, or not take my meds on a consistent basis.

All the talk of food has made me hungry, though. Let’s see if I can find a celery stick to eat. Maybe I can have it with the Hershey chocolate spread that somehow found its way into the shopping cart this week. (Hey. There was a coupon.)

Poor, poor miserable me.

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