Multiple Sclerosis Patient

As a Multiple Sclerosis Patient I am no longer a good friend; no longer do I have what it takes. If you lean on me, I just might fall. Literally and figuratively.I think it started over ten years ago, when I was having coffee with a friend. We were facing each other on a green, coffeehouse sofa, and a lamp blazed on the other side of her. Maintaining eye contact grew painful as the lamp’s beams haloed around her face, turned, burned and twisted around my slow-healing optic nerve. I doubt I said anything about it.

I rarely do in such situations, since the efforts people make to move out of the brightness sometimes don’t fully work, and I don’t want to appear fussy. I want to listen without barriers, but the barriers seem vaster as years pass. I came home that evening, my eye heavy in its socket, and I knew that from then on, I would need to weigh my social life against my pain.

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