Christina Applegate’s candid revelations about the impact of multiple sclerosis left us deeply moved. The 51-year-old actress bravely shared how the disease affects her daily life, emphasizing that ’’With the disease of MS, it’s never a good day”. Her openness about her fears and vulnerabilities only heightened our admiration for her courage.
Fear is part of her everyday life.
During a recent interview, Applegate reflected on the small blessings she used to overlook before being diagnosed with MS in 2021.
She noted that people ask her why she doesn’t take showers, and she explains that ’’getting in the shower is frightening.’’ The Dead to Me star added, ’’You can fall, you can slip, your legs can buckle. Especially because I have a glass shower. It’s frightening to me to get in there.’’
The 51-year-old went on admitting ’’There are just certain things that people take for granted in their lives that Itook for granted’’. She stated that some of them are simple daily tasks such as going down the stairs or carrying things.
The actress revealed that she can still manage to drive short distances and carry food upstairs to her daughter Sadie Grace who is 12, but she made it clear that she struggles with going ’’down, never up.’’
She pointed out ’’Gravity can just pull you down and take everything down with you.’’
Christina Applegate shares new details about living with MS.
In a recent appearance on ABC News, Applegate opened up about her journey with the degenerative disease. She revealed that even the act of sitting for the interview was challenging for her.
«I’m not out a lot, so this is a little difficult, just for my system,» she shared. «But of course, the support is wonderful, and I’m really grateful.»
She continued, «I’m not putting a time stamp on it. I’m never going to wake up and go, ’This is awesome!’ I’m just going to tell you that. It’s just not going to happen. I wake up and I’m reminded every day.»
She added, «I’m isolating and that’s kind of how I’m dealing with it by not going anywhere because I don’t want to do it. It’s hard.»
«(MS) can be very lonely because it’s hard to explain to people. I’m in excruciating pain, but I’m just used to it now.»
She’s not surrounded by too many people.
Despite the assumption that the actress has a support system of friends and family to assist her with everyday tasks, she revealed that she has kept her inner circle small since being diagnosed with MS. She admitted, ’’I actually don’t want to be around a lot of people because I’m immunocompromised.’’
Applegate shared that her friend lives with her during the week and assists her in taking care of Sadie. And on the weekends, a caretaker comes in.
Christina also mentioned that she prefers to avoid overstimulation of her nervous system as it can be overwhelming for her. Therefore, she tries to maintain a quiet and relaxed environment as much as possible.
She explained, ’’Imagine just being in a crowd of people and how loud that is. It’s like 5,000 times louder for anyone who has lesions on their brains.’’
Christina Applegate found unwavering support from her husband during her struggles with MS and breast cancer. His love and strength were pillars that upheld their family’s happiness, even in the face of adversity.
Preview photo credit VALERIE MACON/AFP/East News
My Friend Kicked Me Out of His Wedding, His Reason Stunned Me
So, I sold it. The buyer, Ben, seemed like a good guy—enthusiastic about fixing up the place. We shook hands, and just like that, the house, along with its memories, was no longer mine.
A week later, I received a letter via courier. To my surprise, it was in my grandfather’s handwriting. The paper was yellowed with age, as if it had been sitting, waiting for the right moment to be delivered. My hands shook as I opened it. The message was simple but intriguing: “Check the basement of the house.”
Without wasting time, I called Ben. “Hey, it’s Alex. I need to come by the house—there’s something I need to check in the basement.”
Ben, a little puzzled but still friendly, replied, “Sure, come over. The basement’s just as you left it.”
When I arrived, I barely recognized the house. Ben had already started making improvements. The yard was cleared, and the house had a fresh coat of paint. He greeted me at the door, and we headed straight to the basement. It was still dimly lit and musty, filled with cobwebs and old furniture. Ben watched me search, amused but curious.
“You sure your grandfather wasn’t just messing with you?” he joked.
I was beginning to wonder the same thing. But then, I noticed a loose brick in the wall. Behind it was a small, dusty box containing old letters and a key. Ben peered over my shoulder. “What do you think that key unlocks?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. But I had a feeling it was important. After thanking Ben, I took the box and key home, determined to figure out the mystery.
The next day, I returned to the house with a plan. As Ben opened the door, surprised to see me again, I made a bold offer. “Ben, I’d like to buy the house back.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you said it was a burden.”
Taking a deep breath, I explained. “At first, I thought selling was the right choice. But after receiving my grandfather’s letter, I’ve realized this house means more than I ever thought. It’s not just a building; it’s part of my family’s history, a legacy I need to preserve. I can’t let it go.”
Ben considered for a moment. “Well, I’ve already put in a lot of work. You’d have to offer more than what you sold it for.”
I knew this wouldn’t be easy. “How about five grand more?”
Ben shook his head. “Not enough. The market’s good, and I could sell it for a profit. How about twenty grand more?”
My heart sank. Twenty grand was a lot. But I couldn’t lose the house now. “Deal,” I said, though it hurt to agree.
Over the next week, I finalized the paperwork to buy the house back. During this time, I met Clara, a local historian with a passion for old homes. Over coffee, I shared the story of my grandfather’s house, and she was instantly intrigued.
“Your grandfather sounds incredible,” Clara said. “If you ever need help restoring the house or researching its history, I’d love to assist.”
I gratefully accepted her offer. Clara’s enthusiasm breathed new life into my project. Together, we spent hours sifting through old documents, photos, and memories, piecing together the story of the house and its significance.
Finally, with the house back in my name, I returned to the basement, key in hand. Moving aside an old wardrobe, I discovered a hidden door. The key fit perfectly. Behind the door was a small room, and in the center was a modest chest. My heart raced as I opened it, expecting treasure.
Instead, I found a letter in my grandfather’s familiar handwriting and an old poker chip.
The letter read: “I knew you would sell the house, you fool! I always taught you to honor your ancestors and remember your roots. Yet, you sold it off without a second thought. Let this be a lesson to you.”
At the bottom, in a playful tone, it said: “P.S. I put something in here, so here’s an old poker chip—worthless! Consider it a lucky charm.”
I sat there, the letter in hand, disappointed at first, but then understanding hit me. My grandfather, ever the trickster, had orchestrated this whole experience to teach me a valuable lesson. The house wasn’t just about property or money—it was about honoring the past and valuing what truly matters.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I decided to keep the house and turn it into a family retreat. What I once saw as a burden now felt like a treasure—a connection to my roots and a place where future memories would be made.
Over the months that followed, the house underwent a transformation. With Clara’s help, I restored it, blending its old charm with fresh beginnings. The house, once dilapidated, became a place of laughter and love—a symbol of family heritage.
As the final touches were added, Clara and I grew closer, spending more and more time together. The house wasn’t just a part of my past anymore—it had become a symbol of our future, a place filled with love, memories, and the lessons my grandfather had so cleverly imparted.
In the end, my grandfather had left me far more than a house. He’d left me a legacy, a lesson about family, roots, and the importance of holding on to the things that truly matter.
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