Numbers are a pain in the butt. Not only is it impossible to figure out their correct order, like you can with words, but they meld together to easily. I was happily planning on buying 2 new pairs of hiking shoes at a sporting goods store because they were on sale for $17.99. My daughter came over to look at them and informed me they were $47.99 and coined the new family phrase of "Don't believe what mom sees." And then there is the game of glasses on, glasses off, one eye, two eyes. Hold it to the left, hold it up, hold it far away, shove the book up my nose. I must look nuts in church when I am trying to read. Of course, most know me so I am quite sure they figure that the white jackets will come soon.

My granddaughters' favorite line is: Hey Papa, don't forget your glasses - are on top of your head!
Not really sure? That MG - has anything to do with this?
But that's my story - and I'm stickin' to it!
(Papa is always good for peals of laughter, as he walks around, looking for his glasses, which are - yup - right on top of his head!)

Yeah I was going to ask if MG couls affect memory or not. My memory has definitely getting worse over the last few years. This is one thing I would happily blame on MG if possible. I am still angry at the one nerologist who told me some of what was wrong with me was because I was getting "older". At 40! Really?! Jerk! if his diagnosis was wrong so I consider so were his comments!
Now when I go places I hear "Do you have your meds?" Then I respond "yes" when I am silently thinking "Now where did I put them?!"

Halloween joke - check my photos!

I know I've taken the dog's meds - instead of my meds - when I start barking at anything nearby.
My wife says: oh yeah? You don't need the dog's meds - for that!

I love the Halloween photo! It's great!

As for getting the meds mixed up I definitely do that! Thank goodness all of the little pills look different.

Halloween!
My ''MG the Zombee'' Costume - was a big hit!
With comments like:
''Great makeup job!''
''How did you get your eye - to look like that!''

(Stole this joke - from one of you!)

Last night my 3 year old dressed up as supergirl so I decided to wear my superman t-shirt and started called myself supermom. My 7 year old then casually says, "more like super-weak-mom." Apparently my kids understand this disease better than I thought.!

Hey you were taking the kids out so I guess that makes you Super Myasthenic.

You people are cracking me up! I'm glad I found this website so I can talk to other people who are dealing with the same thing. Thanks for the laugh! :-)

Years ago, before Internet, I was taking medication with my morning tea. I was also giving tha cat medication for an infection and it was getting harder and harder to find her when the time came. She kept an eye on me and would disappear whenever I made a move. So one morning, I got her med down with mine, took mine, then very nonchalantly walked around the kitchen with her med in one hand and my cup in the other. Well I had walked too close to a habit and before I realized it, I had taken the cat's medication. The problem was, I suspected it was something I was allergic to, so I couldn't just pretend like it never happened. First I had to call the vet's office and get the generic name for the med and tell them why I needed it-- then I had to call my husband at work and ask him to call me back in an hour to make sure I was all right since the med was what I had suspected. Fortunately the reaction to the medication was mild, unfortunately the reaction to the rest of the situation was injurious to my dignity, not to mention the aspersions cast on my good sense. But the cat enjoyed it. b.

Bweeds are you purfect now?

Thanks, but no--still lots of impurrfections here. b

Bumping this up again to give everyone a laugh today.

--- I found this anonymous article deeply moving -- I hope you do, too

.Bagpiper at a Funeral.
As a bagpiper, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper's cemetery in the back country. As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost and, being a typical man, I didn't stop for directions. I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the hearse was nowhere in sight. There were only the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch. I felt badly and apologized to the men for being late. I went to the side of the grave and looked down and the vault lid was already in place. I didn't know what else to do, so I started to play. The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no family or friends. I played like I've never played before for this homeless man.
And as I played 'Amazing Grace,' the workers began to weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together. When I finished I packed up my bagpipes and started for my car.

Though my head hung low, my heart was full.

As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, "I never seen nothin' like that before and I've been putting in these septic tanks for twenty years."

Apparently, I guess I was still lost....it's a man thing

Oh dear, Cathy,
Thanks.
It reminds me of a story by Robert Fulghum in UH OH of a funeral of a man he called Hogfart Hogaboom. It is supposed to be true and dressed down for credibility.
Well worth the read! b.