It's Not as Bad as it Sounds (my life with MS & Fibro)

Description

Yvonne Decelis goes over what life has been like with a focus on living with Multiple Sclerosis & Fibromyalgia. She does this by going over her upbringing and life prior to, during and after diagnosis. She also covers things like medications, “healthful living”,  and how she lives day-to-day covering items pertaining to work, SSDI, friendships and relationships, etc.


Mrs. Decelis also wrote It's Not as Bad as it Sounds for people seeking information on how to interact with others who have "invisible illnesses" like MS, Fibro, Epilepsy, Chronic Fatigue and other "invisible conditions".

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About the Author

Author Name : Yvonne Decelis

     Mrs. Decelis graduated and received a BA in Gerontology at the University of Massachusetts (UMass) Boston in December of 2012. While attending UMass Yvonne wrote a collection of essays in the hopes of helping others with disabilities similar to hers. Yvonne is currently the daily news editor for MSnewsChannel.com. Her “ultimate goal” is to be a Gerontologist who is directly involved in the management of programs that address Nutrition and/or Exercise for the elderly (and the disabled) population in an effort to teach them how to improve their quality of life with non-medicalized techniques whenever possible. From Yvonne: My interest in the field of aging and disability is almost lifelong. I have always felt that we do not always treat older adults and/or members of the “disabled community” with the respect and kindness they deserve. I felt this way before being diagnosed with any serious health problems. Finding out I had medical conditions intensified this feeling and strengthened my hopes to change things.

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My great grandfather was a Slave

My grandfather was a Native

My grandmother was a Bantu

My mother was a kaffir, Nigga, Negro

Names imposed by shackles

But an Afrakan I am

An identity my forefathers were deprived of

 

An identity I am now polluting with the fumes of cigarettes

In dope I am giving it another face

In ecstasy I am giving it a comical image

My drunken stupor gives it an unstable belonging

My borrowed accent contradicts what it represents

My imitated dress code conceals its beauty

My adopted religion undermines my intellectual prowess

My language deafens my ancestors

My values are valueless

My mind is discriminatory

It repels anything indigenous

Whilst absorbing all that is alien

None can identify with me

Even those I am emulating

Patriotism I reserve for my kind

I look down at my patriots

If I were xenophobic

I could have been my own victim

I pride myself in my slanted inferior education

An education promptly deleting my true history

Ignorance is my custom

I am dreaming dreams my forefathers cannot interpret

I am singing praise songs for my dying culture

I am branding a heritage

I cannot inherit

Knowledge of freedom is embedded in my subconscious

But suppressed by fear

Fear to develop my culture and identity

Fear to be rejected by the world

Fear to be different and still love myself

Yet with no identity I remain

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