Captain Maven and the Shadow Man – COMING SOON!

I live with Cerebral Palsy and Multiple Sclerosis.

After my last MRI a few months ago, they found new lesions in my brain caused by the Multiple Sclerosis. I was put on a new drug called Mavenclad. Its purpose is to wipe away the immune system so that when it rebuilds itself, it will hopefully do so without the lesions. It’s a chemo drug normally used to treat leukemia.

When the medication arrived, it had a red sticker on it with a big white cross. I’d never received something with a medical symbol of any kind on it, but for some reason it stuck with me, that big white cross. I’m not sure how the subject came up, but when I was talking to my Wonder Mom one day during the treatment, she mentioned the fact that I was like a superhero and maybe the Mavenclad was going to ramp up my powers.

“I would totally need a cape,” I told her.

“Yes, a red cape with a white cross.” She said.

“No, not red and white. I would need a purple cape with a sparkly silver cross. That would be more my style.”

“Yes, you could be Captain Mavenclad!”

“Hmmm, what about Captain Maven?” I was thinking of the way I tried to remember the medication name: I’m a maven clad in raven’s clothes.

“That does have a nice ring to it.”

Now I couldn’t get the image of Captain Maven out of my head. I asked the very talented CaitGordon if she could draw me a Captain Maven drawing. She did so, giving him a cup of power (I had to drink a lot of water when I took the Mavenclad) and a sceptre of light (I sometimes walk with a cane, and I like to sparkle). To say that I loved it is putting it mildly. It put the whole chemo med thing into something that I could draw light from, something that brought me joy. I love that drawing so very much.

Then it occurred to me, if my Mavenclad medication could be a superhero, what about all the other medications that I take? I ended up settling on Finley (Baclofin), Tara Dawn (Trazodone), Sandoz (Sandoz Solifenacin), Dez (Apo-Desmopressin), Tianado (Apo-Tizandadine) and Carley Bravo (CBD oil). They would be a group of superheroes that would do battle against Cracklepuss (Cerebral Palsy) and Max Shadow (Multiple Sclerosis), protecting the streets of Ottawa and keeping the people safe.

I normally write a story for Christmas every year and give it away for free. I thought it would be neat to write a story with this group of supers and set it during the holidays. It never occurred to me that I would write a full novella as I normally just write a short story to give away. I’m already thinking of other stories that could happen with the other characters.

I can’t tell you what joy this story has brought to me and how much fun it was to create a world of superheroes that are really just like ordinary people…with a bit of something extra. I do hope that you enjoyed this tale as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It comes out later this month, just in time for the Holidays! Stay tuned!

what is possible? – a poem

as the sea threatens

to take me away again,

my first thought is

“i didn’t ask for this.”

as the waters grow deeper,

i have to remember

that none of this is my fault,

that the disease

which ravages my

internal world is not

something i asked for,

nor is it something that

i can control.

much like the waters

which threaten to overtake me,

there is no way

i will know the path

that my disease,

the shadowy spectre

of multiple sclerosis,

takes me on.

all i can do

is take each step

one at a time

so that I can scale

each mountain that

blocks my path

and keep my head

above the waters

that threaten to

swallow me completely.

as I walk along

each mountain, each cliff edge,

i let go of the sea

within myself

so that it cascades

down the rockface

like a waterfall,

stretching its fingers

behind me, even as I

walk forwards

towards what

is possible.

what other things? – a poem

carry that tarnished

piece of metal,

the penny which

contained a wish.

a piece of paper

with the words “…love is…”

written upon it,

kept like a spell

hidden inside a book.

the book itself,

a talisman against

the mundane,

its stories read so many times

that pages are beginning

to fall away from its spine.

magic can be so simple,

a mere thought

or significance given

to ordinary objects,

yet they shine

because we think they do,

proof that humans

are capable of

everyday magics and

acts of the extra ordinary.

What other things

shine like stars in your pockets?

I am the Storm – A Poem

My body contains the storm.

The rivers rage against the

rocky barrier of my skin.

Even as I try to remain upright,

water wants to push me down

to the ground so that

it can resume its rightful path.

The waters pull my body

every which way,

making my limbs

feel heavy and misshapen.

I try to walk and I can hear

the waves making the storm

I carry within me grow louder,

until all I can hear is the roar.

Eventually, all I can do

is given in to the pull of the waters,

the almost seductive lull.

By then, they have pulled me under

and I do everything I can

to escape their pull.

When I am lying down in the rapids,

I can look up and see the sun

and it’s the sun that lets me know

that I can swim.

I use its light to guide me

and soon, I am able

to see the rocks in front of me,

offering salvation from the water.

Sitting upon them,

I can still hear the waters

that move and sing inside of me.

I know that I will dance again,

that there is no way

I can let go of the water.

For now,

I listen to the waves

and I can feel the brightness

of the sun.

The Procedure – A Flash Fiction Story

I approached the glass window.

The man on the other side reminded me of the guard to the land of Oz. I wondered briefly if he would say anything about a horse of a different colour. That’s what I was hoping for anyways. The man smiled at me, and it looked genuine.

“Hello there! Can I see some identification? Just a licence or a photo ID card will do, nothing fancy.”

I showed him my photo ID and he made a few notes in his computer, entering my name and statistics like height, eye colour, hair colour, etc. Then he held up a scanner. “Now I want you to remain perfectly still for me, this won’t take but a minute.”

“Why are you scanning me?” I kept the fear from my voice even if I couldn’t stop the worry from sounding so evident.

The man, his gold name tag said that his name was Clive, gave me a brilliant smile that showed all of his teeth but didn’t look threatening. “This is just so we can set a baseline. We need to know how much space there is within you before we give you anything back. You are aware of how the procedure works?”

“Yes,” I said. I had been reading nothing but medical journals for a few days now.

“Perfect. The doctor will look over the information that we collect today and then she will know how to proceed tomorrow and what kind of procedure you will need.”

“All right,” I said. I knew that I would have to come back at lest once. Occasionally, she wasn’t successful the first time around and it needed other treatments. I was hopeful for mine. “That’s fine.”

“Perfect. Just remain still for me and keep your eyes open. Try not to blink.”

“Why do you scan the eyes?” I asked. That was the one piece of information that I couldn’t find from reading the medical journals.

Clive gave me another brilliant smile. “The eyes tell the language of the heart. Did you know that you can tell a lot about how a person loves by looking into their eyes? They can tell us stories that not even the skin can recall.” He held up the scanner.

It looked like a scanner used in grocery stores, but I knew that it was a different kind. It knew that it saw deeper than any scanner at Walmart could. The medical journals said that it scanned your soul. I hoped that it would need to, that I would be allowed to have the procedure.

That evening, I wondered what the next day would bring. Would I be successful? And if I was, what would I do with all my newfound memories? Would they leave me changed or would I still be myself, but somehow more? Just like the medical journals not saying why they had to scan your eyes, they also did not specify what it felt like to have everything put back inside of you. How did a person live with what they had lost? The success rates were high, almost 100%, but there was that one percent of people that couldn’t handle it. How did you go from feeling nothing to feeling everything? It sometimes proved to be too much.

When I returned to the office the next day, Clive was there behind the glass. I wondered if he ever went home. He waved when he saw me. “You’re in luck! You’ve been cleared for the procedure! The doctor is waiting for you.” His smile widened. “In fact, here she is!”

I turned around and there she was. She was even more stunning than the magazine pictures. She came towards me, giving me a soft smile. “Jamieson, I’m so happy to see you, come in come in.” She held open the door to her office and I stepped inside.

The room was filled with soft blue light. She motioned for me to sit in a high-backed chair, and she took the other one across from me. “I’m so happy that you came to me, Jamieson.” Her smile was blinding but kind. “It’s not often that I get many patients with your potential.”

She started setting up a contraption that reminded me a lot of a tool that ophthalmologists used when they are testing your eyes. There was a chin rest and a soft pulsing light that shone that would shine in my eyes. I had read about the procedure in countless magazines.

“So, that’s what will make this all work?” I asked.

She smiled and the blue light shone off of her teeth. “That’s what will help your heart grow again.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, you gave so much of your heart away in previous relationships. They took and took pieces of your heart but didn’t give anything back. This procedure will rectify that.”

I nodded as if this all made sense. “Why the colour blue?” I asked. This was all I could think of. I had so many questions, but this was the one that came to the surface first.

The doctor gave me a kind smile that was less blinding than before and I found it very reassuring. She reached out and took my hand. “Blue is the colour of love, and of human emotion. It’s also the colour of your spirit, Jamieson. This will help heal your heart and your spirit will make sure to help you on this journey. You have so much empty space in your heart because you gave so much of it away. Do you want it back?”

I nodded and she gave me another kind smile. “Just put your chin here,” she said.

I did so and she turned on some calming music that immediately soothed me. She pressed another button and the blue light in front of me became brighter. As my body began to expand, I wondered if I had done the right thing coming here.