All Posts

All I can say is – “I will live another day stay away , Devil” I wonder if my funeral homily will be written just about MS: crippled fingers – eyes barely focus – impossible balance issues- can’ t type very well. Still, I ain’t dead yet because my psyche tells me, “I think; therefore, I exist.” I can scribble poetic words from a brain with black lesions and holes, struggle with my dark autoimmunity disease with damnable muscle wasting - slow - cognitive abilities. I wonder if

It all started approximately March 2006, I started feeling dizzy (drunk feeling 24/7, no need to go out with mates to drink, I felt drunk without drinking). My left hand began to go numb and my co-ordination to the left hand was slacking. I went to my GP and had blood tests and my weight checked. He said: "it may be down to your weight (23 stones 4lbs), cholesterol and smoking" From my blood tests, he said: "it looks as if you smoke 40 a day" Which was give or take 5 cigarett

You hear my voice, You see me smile, You think it's not that bad. Inside I'm screaming, Inside I'm arguing, Inside I'm crying. But I won't show as I don't want you to worry. I may stumble, I may forget, Setting a time is setting regret. This is me A new me and It's not coz I'm going to the gym, It's not coz of a new year resolution. I have been forced into these changes, I smile to reassure you that I'm O K You hear my voice, You see my smile. Stefano Cimmino

Now that my words are written down on paper, black and white, someday you may decide that what I've written isn't right. Opinions aren't like words two can never be the same, but if your opinions are written down, they can be heard again. Even though nobody's talking, the words can still be read, so write them down and then we'll know exactly what you said. Fame part 2. K.MacDonald

This ones about a guinea pig and his name was clive, hed sit upon my shoulder when id go out for a drive. Id stroke him id brush him i even cleaned his poo (thats all part of pet ownership) youll have to do that too. One thing about clive he was always malting, I really didnt mind but my kids found it revolting. I loved him More, than you could have even guessed hed calm me down, when i was feeling stressed But One day i had, the most awful suprise clive had stopped mov

My life has changed From great to good Then from good to challenging The challenges became day to day Then hour to hour And minute to minute My challenges began to break me My days became a mystery Not knowing what may come The future became a question Every day was different not knowing What is next to come Day to day may be a mystery Yet I push on to enjoy life Life is good and within your hands So, make it good. Life and MS. Michael Russell.

Growing up life was an open canvas Each day was yours to create Tomorrow began new adventures Adventures after exciting adventures Your canvas changed as your thoughts changed Yet Life was an exciting ever-changing journey New experience after a new experience Life is good and ever changing Then today became another day after another day Life had changed for the better or the worse Yet life moves on day after day Life’s exciting adventures turned into another day As my abilit

I was diagnosed with Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis in December 2009, what did that mean then for me? I decided to try fitness, that worked for me, I decided to train to become a personal trainer and an instructor too, I was made redundant in June 2016, what did that mean then for me? I tried to work in the fitness industry, that didn't work then for me, I was Certified Visually Impaired in 2021, what did that mean then for me! I was registered blind in November 2024,

You took my strength, You took my balance, You took my confidence, And you take my vision when you want. You've created challenges, You've created regrets, You've created thoughts, That I can't forget. You took. stefano cimmino.

There was once a lad in a cap, He used to say poetry was crap, He then discovered words could explain pain in a verse, And that was the end of that. Lad in a cap. Robert Gillett

These are your thoughts Write your happy thoughts, Write your sad thoughts, Your thoughts, For you. The thought of the day, The thought of the week, Your thoughts of the world, Your thoughts for only you to see. Your Thoughts. Robert Gillett

I never set out to be a writer. I didn’t sit there dreaming of books or stages or strangers listening to my truth. I was just trying to survive. Trying to escape the chaos in my head, Put pain into something that made a bit more sense. At first, it was random thoughts, Written between random symptoms, Between different moods, Between moments I nearly gave up. It wasn’t polished. Wasn’t supposed to be poetic. It just needed to be real. And somehow… that mattered. People listen

Sometimes, the first signs of MS don’t shout, they whisper. For Matthew Price, it started during what should’ve been a normal night out with his family. “During the movie, my face felt droopy. When we got to the car, I asked my wife Rebecca to look at it. She agreed it did look like one side was drooping a bit. I was a little concerned, but by the next day, it had resolved,” recalls the 56-year-old from Spring Hill, TN. Like most of us would, he booked an appointment just to

Hello, My Name is Michael D Russell, and I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2009, and yes, life changed. Prior to my MS diagnosis, I concentrated on working, traveling, living life to the fullest, and having a good time. How has life changed, you wonder? As we all know, our physical ability changes as MS progresses, which has refocused my vision of life. My purpose now is to help others on their MS journey by sharing how I changed and adapted to our new life. I have

I received my diagnosis of MS in Scotland in 1998, after 5 years of living in limbo, not having a diagnosis. Back then it seemed to be the norm not to disclose to patients as it was felt that knowing could exacerbate the condition; MS thrives on stress. The consultant said to me, “so, if I have to put a name to this, I’ll say its mild MS.” He then immediately turned to my husband and said, “So you’re in the Navy, what do you do?” Shell shocked, I stood in disbelief, steam rol

Sometimes the right connection comes out of nowhere. That’s what happened with me and Atom St George. We’ve never met in person. We live on opposite sides of the world. Different time zones, different daily lives, different struggles but one thing tied us together MS. We both live with it. Different symptoms, different battles but the same shadow following us around every day. Atom paints. I write. Simple as that. But what made this so powerful is how those two things collide

The stage is the only place where I feel truly free. Free from the weight of MS, free from the noise of anxiety, free from the shadows of depression. For those minutes under the lights, I’m not trapped by a diagnosis or defined by a struggle, I’m just me. In everyday life, there are limits. My body doesn’t always do what I want. Fatigue can stop me mid day. Pain can make even the simplest things feel like a battle. But on stage, the words carry me. It’s like the weight lifts

People see the performance, the mic, they hear the  words, feel the the delivery. They don’t see the fight it takes to even reach the stage. For me, performing poetry isn’t just about what happens in the spotlight, it’s about everything it takes to get there. Living with multiple sclerosis means nothing comes simple. The journey to a venue takes planning. Will it be accessible? How many steps are there? Is there somewhere I can sit before going on? These are questions most pe

When I was first diagnosed with MS, I was put on Lemtrada. It was my first disease modifying therapy (DMT), and at the time, I thought it was my ticket to slowing the disease down, maybe even taking control again. And for a while, it did its job. It gave me hope, a sense that maybe I could keep living life without constant setbacks. But 18 months after my Lemtrada infusions, the relapses came back. And this time, they left their mark. I started to feel the decline creeping in

The early days of diagnosis are a blur I’ll never forget. It was like waking up in a body I didn’t recognise, with rules I hadn’t agreed to. One day I was carrying on like usual, the next I was staring at my hands, my legs, my energy, wondering why they wouldn’t play along. Nothing made sense. And the more I tried to push through it, the harder it pushed back. You don’t just get handed MS and carry on. There’s a grieving process. You grieve the future you thought you had. The