On Sunday night I had an event, an episode if you like. Not like any normal episode in my MS journey but just as debilitating none the less. For 21 years I have managed to coerce or even bully this disease into picking on someone else. I knew my limitations and I was able to accept help when I really needed it. Last night surrounded by 13 other MSers and 6 brilliant crew members I finally had to admit defeat. I couldn't manoeuvre my way around this any more, literally. I was for the first time on an Oceans of Hope challenge, really really challenged....... Starboard watch had a man down, All the more complex balance jobs that I loved to do were finally out of my reach. I was struggling to get out of the galley and there was no chance of me getting moving about when we were underway. It took me 45 minutes to move 100m and I had my first ever MS wibble moment in Weymouth Harbour. People may say your first wibble in 21 years? Really? Honestly?Now I live by a little phrase "no one's dying in a ditch". I use it with my girls all the time, hopefully calming their stresses ect. This time, however, I wasn't listening to myself. I rang Jan and told her, I had had enough, I couldn't do the things I used to do and how I was really struggling. I walked (well stumbled) back towards the boat, got to the first ramp to get to the jetty, looked at it and thought nope I have had enough. I stood there working out how to get to the nearest hotel and train times for the next morning. Then I hear a friendly continental voice ask me if I was ok. It was Tony our friendly Belgian sailor. He had been out for a walk to clear his head and was just on his way back to boat. We had a good little chat. Tony reminded me that I had actually done most of the sheet work in the cockpit so far and that between his dodgy eyes and my wayward legs we could still get things done aboard. So long story short a quick personal debrief, a suck it up buttercup moment and a quick chat with the skipper, Jon, I got back on the boat. I woke up at 0545 on Monday the 7th of September and realised that it was all OK and and realised how close I had come to making a huge mistake. The passage out of Weymouth was uneventful and I soon got back into my groove on the sheets, Mainsail was up followed by the No 1 Yankee. I sat back and started to watch the channel. We passed Portland Bill and I caught a flash of mottled grey to Port, and again and then more. There they were, a pod of common dolphins having breakfast That was the point I realised I was back in my happy place. So the point or should I say the moral to this story is, when your feeling a bit overwhelmed, have a chat with a mad Belgian sailor and go looking for dolphins. (other nationalities and mammals are available)