Bright Ideas

Monday was my 67th birthday. I remember my 7th birthday. The dining room table was surrounded by friends: Kaye, my age, her brother Gary, I always had a crush on Gary; he was two years older than we, another Gary (Cassidy), his younger brother, Steve something, he lived in the house next to ours, a girl who lived up the hill, Sue Biggerstaff, and my uncle Donnie! Gary Cassidy’s father was CEO of the $.05 and $.10 store. That’s where the kids bought Christmas presents.

I remember one year my brother bought me the largest bottle of Evening in Paris the store sold. It was horrible cologne and I kept it under my bed.

There were two pictures taken: the first with guests gathered around the table, the second with everyone assembled in front of our beautiful bookcase my father had built for my mother. We were all smiling, having satisfied our appetites for chocolate.

Mom always held a birthday party for me when we lived in town. That ended the next year when we moved to the country. I could invite Kaye to spend the night with us. Additional friends were added over the years: Nancy Fredrickson, we called her Freddy. She wasn’t a close friend, but we hated to leave her out.

Kaye had long straight hair. One day we climbed the sweet cherry trees, and Kaye’s hair was full of juice. Mom washed it and added curlers, dried it under our hair drier and combed it out. Kaye looked wonderful and we returned her home with the curls. Her mom never fixed it that way, but my mom was happy with the way my best friend looked. If she had been my sister, mom would have curled her hair several times a week. She curled mine, too.

As the years went by, Kaye and I had less in common. Missy became my best friend. We exchanged Christmas cards, phone conversations and more. When I was diagnosed with MS, my friend Kaye called and thought MS was like ALS. After research, she called back. I had told her it didn’t kill you, just left you more disabled. And I could deal with that. Missy died in 1996; she was 52 and breast cancer had spread all over her. I miss her to this day.

Now a treatment is available to stop or slow the progression of progressive MS — the kind I have, I think it is called a radiological gamma sharp knife infusion of radiological waves. It kills the nerve causing me constant pain. It will happen at Billings Clinic — an outpatient procedure. They need an MRI to identify the nerve, but I had one in 2014; than zap me and pain is gone. Worst case scenario is I have a crooked smile, but I’ve never had a worst case scenario.

By the time this article is printed, I should have made one trip to Billings, and I hope to have the Ocrevus infusions at the same time, then I’ll be good to go for two weeks before they finish the IV infusion. This is repeated every six months; it will be warmer in May.