Is a blog I will write one day. Not today.
I painted this today.
As I stared at this painting (I always stare at my paintings, if I can’t I know it’s bad), so as I stared and stared at this painting it eventually dawned on me that If I hang it this way, and call it “the death of my father”, it perfectly represents that moment in my life, but in color.
I don’t think I need to explain it.
Who knows, maybe one day I’ll write the story behind it
In December of 2001 I took a trip to Tunisia. Unknowingly to me it would be my last trip before being diagnosed with MS. I was very nervous going on this trip and the anxiety was only exacerbated when I arrived in Tunisia and they had lost my luggage. I was leaving the next morning on a tour so I couldn’t wait for my backpack. I had to choose. I chose to leave the bag behind and I ended up travelling across Tunisia with only my purse (messenger bag type purse), my CD player (and mix), my toothbrush, my wallet, my passport, my camera and some film. In the end, that’s all I needed. It was very symbolic for me. This obstacle made me stronger, it made me leave behind many types of things. My distractions, my desires, my obsessions, my safety net of sorts. I had nothing, and I was in the middle of nowhere, and I was scared, but I had everything I truly needed, I had my camera. I was so attached to it. I loved the feel of it hanging around my neck, the feel of the lens in my hand, the tranquility when I looked through the viewfinder. It’s just me, the camera and what I’m looking at. Nothing else exist.
If needed, I washed my clothes in my hotel room at night and hoped it would be dry in the morning. I saw beautiful sunsets, from beautiful locations. But what I remember most is the Sahara. Not my clothes, not even the music I was listening too. The Sahara , which I spent on top of a camel from early in the day right into the sunset. I remember endless amounts of sand, different shades of yellow, and the sky slowly changing colours. I may not have been able to fully appreciate the moment at the time (sitting on a camel is very uncomfortable), but it remains as one of the most significantly colourful moments in my life. And of course I had my camera but only a few shots left (I only had a 35mm SLR back then). So I had to make every shot count. Which I did….
One day, while painting, I told myself “I’ve got to get rid of some of these paintings!”
Yes this habit can be expensive but I don’t go out much so instead of spending my money on bars, drinks, shows and fancy clothes, I spend my money on art supply.
But that’s not why I have to get rid of them. Space is getting tight, if I stare at any painting too long I take the risk of painting over it. But also in order to move forward, to be inspired, I need a white canvas in front of me. I need to leave the past behind.
So I’m having a small show so anyone interested can see my paintings in person, and to maybe let some of them go. And who knows, maybe make enough money to get myself a new easel.
I’m really excited about this, it’s giving me something to do besides chores. But I’m also extremely nervous about it. Opening up my home, letting people in, putting myself and my art in a situation to be judged. It will be the most exposed I have been in a long time. And the decision to do this didn’t come easily but I felt it necessary. I don’t know how many opportunities I’ll have to do this. From having the energy to organize it, to having a chance to say hello again to people I haven’t seen in a long time, and in some cases it might be a chance to say good bye.
Every piece in my latest collection is inspired by the colors I remember from profound memories I have. From the red rocks and blue skies of Sedona, mixed with the white sands of New Mexico. Day turning into night in the vast dunes of the Sahara desert, the sunsets over the grassy fields and dry lands of the Serengeti. The grass, the mountains, the lakes, the rain, the snow, the colored leaves of fall, the sunsets, the city, the nightlife, the calm, and the busy life lived in Montreal.
I like to remember all these moments (and more), and the people I spent them with, in color.
So for anyone interested in possibly coming to my show, send me a message and I’ll send you the info.
Not sure what to eat? How about a head of lettuce, miam miam 😋
Throw in some cherry tomatoes for a kick!
I’m kidding and I’m not.
I rarely feel like cooking now and having pre-washed and prepped fresh veggies on hand is super helpful. It’s not creative, it’s actually quite dull, but it’s healthy and filling.
I once thought of becoming a chef and opening up a restaurant. But that seemed like lots of work so I thought of opening up a catering company instead.
That idea quickly vanished when I had kids.
Now, I don’t want to cook nothing.
I feel incredibly guilty and like a terrible mother when I say this, but cooking for kids has sucked the joy of cooking right out of me.
It started when they were babies. They obviously can’t help, they can barely get the food into their mouths, so they aren’t going to help you chop vegetables or clean up afterwards. I had to prepare their meals, 3 times a day, everyday. And it was very dull food. I’m not going to serve roasted stuffed chicken breast with a sauce of creamy digonnaise sauce reduced with white wine, a side order of sautéed spinach and crispy garlic home fries. They aren’t going to like it. Trust me I’ve tried, anything with spices and flavour they would throw back in my face. I could of kept trying, force them to refine their palate. I could of continued to spend over an hour preparing fancy meals while simultaneously taking care of kids. Exhausting myself to only have it thrown back in my face and deal with a hungry crying baby while also trying to eat my portion before it got colder. And sometimes I would get a phone call from Dean saying he’ll be late. I would sit there with my fancy meal going cold, half of it on the floor, a crying baby (then 2) and a mountain of dirty dishes and wonder “why am I doing this to myself?”
So the meals got simpler, quicker, plainer, kids would eat, no tears were shed (most of the time) and I fell into a routine where I just cooked for the kids very dull and boring palate. Everyday, 3 times a day. Sometimes (if I had the energy) I would also make something for the adults to eat. Something fancier, more flavourful, something you could actually crave. I would try and get the kids to try it, sometimes they would and spit it out, sometimes they wouldn’t even try it. But it got tiresome. 2 separate meals, piles of dishes, a floor and kids to clean. So in order to conserve my energy I almost never cooked anything I actually craved. Meal time became something I almost loathed.
As they got older they would accept more ingredients into their repertoire. After 10 years Audrey is much more adventurous. But my desire to cook has almost completely dissolved by now. I’m exhausted, mostly from coming up with meal ideas. You want to know what it’s like to be in a relationship/family. It’s wondering every day, multiple times a day, what people want to eat. I miss not having to worry what everybody else wants, and just doing or eating what I want. Eating paleo doesn’t help either.
So I grab some romaine lettuce, some baby carrots and just stuff my pie hole.
So I’m swimming in the sea with the kids. We’re at a beach in Bathurst New Brunswick. We’re having fun in the waves, you know, splashing around.
When all of a sudden I feel something on my leg, like a huge sting. I look down and there’s a fucking shark attached to my leg. A shark! On my leg! In New Brunswick! Not a great white but like a blue shark. Maybe 4 feet long.
So I’m standing there obviously in shock, the shark let’s go and backs up a little. The water starts to turn red. I start to snap out of it and look at the shark. Then I turn my head and look at the kids. I look back again at the shark just as it darts towards us. Then before I know it I leap towards the shark and grab it by the neck and start punching it the face. I yell “GET OUT!” To the kids. With such force they know to listen. The shark wiggles free from my “neck grip” and darts back for my leg, it smells the blood I imagine.
This is a sharks basic instinct to eat, to live, versus a humans basic desire to survive, a mothers instinct to save her kids. It bites, I punch, it shakes, I bite into it’s fin while I wrap my arms around its neck again. I look back, kids are still getting out of the water, so I look back at the shark and just punch it over and over again. I’ve never felt such strength. It’s so powerful, awakening. The shark wiggles a bit, still in my arms, I look back again at the kids and they’re out of the water, finally! I start dragging this thing to the sand, he’s fighting really hard and he’s so heavy, but I’ve got him. I’m out of the water, I throw the shark further down the beach with more strength then I’ve ever had, I watch it wiggle in the sand a bit, I look at the kids safe on the beach, they look shocked.
I look at my bleeding leg, flesh, blood, skin hanging, bad, very very bad, I fall to my knees.
I look at my kids, I look at the shark, he’s no longer moving.
I look at my kids, they look sad.
I look at my leg, I’m sad too because I know what this could mean.
I look at my kids, they’re holding each other, perfect, they’re there for each other. My leg, so red, so much blood.
I’m so tired that I fall unto my hands, I try to hold myself up but I fall into the sand. My face is turned towards the kids. They’re crying and moving closer.
I stare up at the blue skies, I hear the faint sound of waves and nothing else, I look at my kids, I imagine them having BBQ’ed shark for dinner, I smile. And then I close my eyes…..
Would you rather hear that or…
I have MS
Over the years now I’ve been asked many times, by many different people, some form of question about what’s wrong with my legs. Were you in an accident, did you get hurt, what happened? I can only imagine that they were somehow expecting some exciting story about either a car accident, a plane crash, falling down the stairs or me taking part of the humans versus robots war. Because every time I tell someone I have MS they look disappointed.
I don’t mind talking about it, I’ve come to accept it. To me it’s not a downer, IT ISN’T FUN, but it doesn’t get me down. It’s like telling someone I have a kitchen table. It’s incredibly dull. But It is very hard seeing the look of disappointment on their faces every time. I can’t blame them. I can’t imagine anybody telling me they have a degenerative progressive incurable disease and not being sad upon hearing this. But I also don’t want to be rude and say nothing. And I’m not comfortable with lying. It has come to a point where I’m really anxious, almost fearful about meeting new people, because I know I will eventually become the downer in the room. The total buzz kill.
So after years of racking my brain about how I should answer this inevitable question i believe i have come up with a comfortable answer …
“let me tell you this crazy story”
…
I like to imagine I would look like this if ever I had to tackle a shark
But truth is I would probably look like this
A quick breakfast consisting of:
A carrot and pumpkin muffin made with almond flour, coconut and spices,
fresh fruit,
And a cup of love (coconut milk with chai tea).
To make it seem like lots of food simply serve it on a miniature plate.
What is the Walhs – Paleo diet.
According to dr. Terry Walhs, one of the best ways to treat MS is with 9 cups of vegetables per day (3 cups each of greens, sulfure rich, and coloured veggies) and some healthy grass fed organic free range hormone&nitrate free protein. She is way more technical but the idea is that if I give my body the nutrients it needs it will function better. That is the Walhs part of the diet. If you were to pour juice into your car, or cola into your garden, they wouldn’t function or grow properly. The same goes for the human body. So I can’t put grains, legumes, dairy, sugar, or processed foods into my body. That is the paleo part of the diet.
Is she right, I don’t know but it makes sense.
The lifestyle is annoying to follow. I would much rather not have to worry about what I’m eating. (Wouldn’t we all like that). But the lifestyle has been helping. It’s increased my energy, helped with nausea and stomach issues, I’ve lost weight, the dry patch I had on my hand is gone, I feel more clear headed, and I even sleep better.
Unfortunately I spend most of my new found energy preparing food. Also, I’m the only one eating this way in our household so I occasionally have to prepare multiple dishes. YES! I’m aware it could be beneficial for the rest of the family to follow this lifestyle. I encourage them to eat well, I teach them about food, about making healthy decisions, that too much of a good thing can be bad (they’ve all heard about my peach story), and the rest I leave up to them. If they feel fine after eating a bowl of cereal, then they can go right on ahead and do it. For me, it’s all about feeling better.
I use the term “ish” (see title) because YES sometimes I stray. I get tired of making my own mayo and dressing. I have MS, two small kids, and a husband who doesn’t know how to sauté anything (he thinks sauté means slap it). I cook a lot, and I get tired. So I use store bought mayo on occasion. On vacation I ate the local cuisine, and on my birthday I ordered an entree of breaded shrimp and a dessert. (None of which follow the rules). In some chat rooms I would of gotten the third degree and a reminder about the rules. I KNOW THE RULES! MY rule is if I’m on vacation or if it’s my birthday I can do whatever I want. I know how I feel afterwards so I don’t do it often. But in general, I follow the rules.
I’ve been following this lifestyle on & off for the past 5 years. On-“ish” for 7 months now. I recommend it for anyone with health issues, but I won’t try to shove it down your throats. I know the difficulties it comes with. But if anyone wants to learn more you can check out dr. Terry Walhs’s video at: https://youtu.be/KLjgBLwH3Wc or read her book: https://www.amazon.ca/Wahls-Protocol-Radical-Autoimmune-Conditions/dp/1583335544/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1500824088&sr=1-1&keywords=the+wahls+protocol.
I’m posting this because I may on occasion post pictures of my meals in order to help those in the same boat who may be running out of meal ideas. Also, I want to show I’m making efforts to try to get better. Like this 100% homemade lovely paleo breakfast of coconut waffle topped with a pâté made of chicken livers and hearts, garlic, and onions (It looks like poop and taste like it too). Served with fresh fruit to mask the taste. Mmmm?
So in the end I would like to say “Bon Appétit”, what ever you may be eating….
Am I a germaphobe, not quite but I’m right on the edge.
Do I like things clean, sure. Am I constantly cleaning, no.
Do I run away in fear when someone is sick, no but I would if I could.
Do I use those antiseptic machines, yes … every time I see one.
Do I hug my family when they’re sick, I try not to. I would go live somewhere else for the duration of their illness if I could.
Do I feel good about that, no.
Do I fear sick people, yes. I hold my breath, I panic, I try to get as far away as I can. I look for antiseptic, I wash my hands over and over, I cover my face, and I pray I don’t catch it (not to god but religion is a blog for another time).
Was I always like this, not at all.
Why, because I have MS which is a neurological autoimmune disorder. I get sick and my immune system goes crazy and kills everything, including the myelin cover protecting my nerves. And there’s no way to fix it. I woke up once with a slight fever and I was paralyzed from the waist down, I could move my arms but barely. It took me 3 weeks before I was able to leave the house. (This is years after being diagnosed)
I take medicine to relax my immune system (let’s call my immune system Joe). So if I get a cold, “drugged out Joe” just relaxes. “dude, we’re being attacked, I should totally do something about that”. But Joe doesn’t do something about that, or at least he’s in no hurry.
I’m bringing this up, because I just spent the last week with a cold feeling TERRIBLE, barely able to walk, unable to paint, unable to cook (not that it matters because I can’t go to the grocery store anyways), barely able to focus, and most importantly unable to care for my kids. This.. f-ing cold is starting to pass and so I can focus again (hence write) but I’m still sick (hence really grumpy and ranting).
I would love to stop taking these meds so I can get over colds quicker . LOVE! But then I remember why I’m taking them. Because I went from being a healthy, vibrant, energetic, active woman….to being PARALYZED by the flu….PARALYZED! I fear I could wake up one day and be paralyzed NOT because of the flu. This “choice” about whether or not to take the meds didn’t feel like much of a choice and it wasn’t done without contemplation. It’s also not the only thing I’m doing (Walhs diet/lifestyle, physiotherapy, chiropractors, EMS, energy stones, aromatherapy, meditation, supplements, vitamins, probiotics, …) nor is it the only thing I’m contemplating. (stem cell transplant for people with MS?).
I’m not angry, I sound angry, sometimes I might be angry. And I’m not sad, sometimes yes but mostly no. I’m just tired, so so tired, overwhelmingly exhausted worn out tired. I just need to vent sometimes. I am a frustrated warrior.
And obviously I need to avoid germs.
Blog entry #1
Why I decided to start a blog.
Aside from ” it’s what all the cool kids are doing nowadays”, I thought it could be somewhat therapeutic for me. A few years after I was diagnosed with MS I got pregnant and then my life completely changed. I became a mom, my responsibilities changed, my body changed (therefore my wardrobe changed), my health changed, I had to stop working, I was dependent on someone else which was (and still is) really uncomfortable, and we moved to a new neighbourhood so my entourage changed (friends, restaurants), It was A LOT of change all at once and I felt incredibly lonely. I became somewhat withdrawn and closed off more and more over the years. I love my kids and our house but it came at a price. I lost myself.
This is me trying to find myself again. Or I guess redefine myself.
My husband (as well as others) have recommended I go to group therapy (always nice to hear, but I know it comes from a place of concern and love), and I even thought of getting a dog.
But I don’t like large gatherings or the idea of opening up to a bunch of strangers (face to face). And as to getting a dog….well I know the kids would love a dog. And having the quiet non judgemental unconditional love of a dog to keep me company during the day would surely be therapeutic. But I do not (and I can’t stress this enough), I do NOT want to pick up poop or be woken up at 5am cause he needs to “go”. My unwillingness to clean up dog poop, and my need for a good night sleep, are far greater then my need for emotional therapy….blame the almost OCD clean freak in me. Ain’t gonna happen.
So, a blog it is.
Regardless, after some soul searching I realized I don’t feel lonely
1. Because I have a great husband and two sometimes adorable kids.
2. Because I’m a big time introvert. So time to myself is awesome.
3. Because I have some great friends I can call anytime, I don’t, but I know I could and that brings me great comfort. I don’t have many friends, but the ones I do have are awesome.
What I do feel is lost.
1. Because I can’t let go of who I was.
2. Because I can’t let go of what I wanted.
3. Because I can’t figure out what I want.
So I figured if I start a blog I can give others a glimpse of who I am outside of the MS and BECAUSE of it. And hopefully find myself in the process. It has already started to help since I know I want to paint, I want to write, and I want to share…from a distance.
Sometimes I draw or paint in order to express myself. But my art is mostly abstract so my thoughts can often be … misinterpreted. But there will be nothing abstract about putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard in this case. I am not who I am. Which is occasionally my inspiration for my “art” (things aren’t always as they seem). I am not “the sick friend”. I want to change that perception, play a different part in your lives. I get it now when an actor wants to leave a role in a hit show. I want a new role. I am more then “the girl you know who has MS”.
I’m also a fucking mess 😉
So here I am, cautiously revealing myself…..
Caro 