For my Facebook status, I just posted that I was slowly ascending to a comfortable cruising altitude. And that seems about right.
On mornings like this one, after my weekly Avonex shot, I always find myself crawling up and out of a cocoon of my own making, thanks to the one-two punch of the injection’s side effects and the Tylenol PM tablets I greedily gulp down to sleep through the brunt of it all.
On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d rank today’s achiness at about 3. Not too bad at all. A couple more Tylenol, and I suspect I’ll be close to 100 percent by noon or 1 p.m.
Anyway.
Last night, I taped recorded an ABC documentary about Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling. As I sat curled on the couch this morning, blinking away last night’s grogginess, it was strange to watch Rowling describe her own mother’s multiple sclerosis, and the charitable trust she later established to fund research for MS. I felt as though a peculiar thread was running through my week. Six degrees of separation between my own disease and Harry Potter?
Soothing, really.
It’s odd what gives us comfort on gloomy days.
Afterward, I went online to find out more about Rowling’s trust, and smiled when I learned it was called the Volant Charitable Trust, apparently named in memory of Rowling’s late mother, Anne Volant Rowling. But that’s not why I smiled.
volant (adj.) Engaged in or having the power of flight.
Ascendio, indeed.
