Sometime before I, a noder 18 years old, was born unto this earth, my Mom was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. MS is a crippling disease that literally eats the brain.

Growing up, I hardly noticed her affliction. It had not progressed much and her Betaseron was keeping it in check. She was able to drive me to school, cook dinner for us, and basically be Mom. The other kids would sometimes make fun of me because she had this disease, but I fiercely defended her to the extent that elementary school children can. In my 5th year of education, I noticed she had lost much of her strength. She didn't have the energy to drive me to baseball practice. From then on my dad was the exclusive chauffeur of the family.

Slowly, the disease robbed her further. Homecooked meals were long sought after rarities. I went through high school on a diet mostly of french fries and burgers. On the occasions that she could cook, the food just wasn't the same. Something was missing. More often than not it was that special ingredient she has for a dish that makes it homestyle cooking. Her memory banks were becoming disconnected and unassociative.

Compared to others in my family, my IQ would seem to be quite lofty. MS eats away the brain, lowering IQ until death. I have a hard time with others who can't see the One True Way to do things efficiently. My Mom's MS has made it hard for her to think coherently about certain tasks. Don't get me wrong, I love her. Everyone loves their Mom. But the vast difference in logical leaps makes for a very grating relationship. We are constantly arguing and bickering as I do things for her that she can't do, and she complains about not being able to do it. At a passing glance, you'd have no idea that we were related (especially since I am adopted).

She went to the hospital today. Her MS has gotten worse over the past few weeks. Increased blood pressure, slurred speach, and dizzyness are only a few of the recent side effects. They want to keep her overnight to monitor her. I now realize that only a few weeks ago we were at each other's necks, yelling and screaming about building a fire in the woodburning stove. Stupid shit like that. She has been to the hospital many times before because of sudden side effects like this, but usually it was only for two or three hours. She left with my dad at about 4 pm. It is now 9 pm.

I hope I'll still have a chance to tell her I'm sorry. I need to tell her one more time how much I really love her.