I feel like a tea-strainer

It the main 12 month assessment at the Research Centre. Sara met me at the door with the sample tub. Good. I was desperate for the loo. Then the round of assessments began. Weight. I was pleased to weigh a wee bit less than last time. I had tried to cut down on the cakes and biscuits. It seemed to be working.

Then it was time for the blood. Or not. When the cannula for the MRI had been removed the week before from my motorway vein, I hadn’t put enough pressure on it and it had bruised slightly. My other veins, which are very possessive of their blood at the best of times, had gone into hiding even deeper than usual. Oh joy. I was also cold. So we decided to leave it for a bit and get the other assessments done first. Sara made me a cup of tea in the hope that that would warm them up too.

It was a different doctor this time for the blind EDSS. He looked very distinguished in his purple paisley bowtie. His first challenge was to sign into the computer to score the assessment. Several usernames and passwords later, I asked him “Do you feel like throwing it through the window?” “I’m very close to it” was the reply. “It’s the same user name as … assessment,” suggested Sara. Ah-ha! Success!

Reflexes, tuning fork, strength, the nine-hole peg test, remembering the shapes to draw them after a twenty second viewing. “How’s the bladder?” “Sending me nuts!” He laughed. “I don’t think ‘sending me nuts’ is an option for an answer”, he said. The dreaded adding up test. You have to add the last number said to the one said before. So… 4, 5, answer 9, 6, answer 11, 3, answer 9, and so on.

Now to try the blood again. My veins were still in hiding. Sara recruited Anna to help. The short version is that three attempts later, the blood finally flowed. And I felt like a tea-strainer.