I never thought I might one day play host to a life-altering disease, so I really did not know how to react to the news that I had one. Even now, three years after the initial diagnosis, I am shocked every time I am reminded of my affliction.
     Multiple sclerosis (MS) is an unpredictable and inconsistent disease that affects its victims in a variety of ways. MS is not partial to age or gender and offers no favors to the young or to the "weaker" sex.
     Symptoms include affected vision, partial to full numbness in the extremities, blinding headaches, spatial disorientation, tremors and memory lapses. Attacks, or "exacerbations", may be frequent, predictable or rare. After experiencing two documented "exacerbations", with one hospitalization, I can report that they are both totally unexpected and extremely frightening.
       But I can't complain. Since my diagnosis, I have met several comrades in this disease, and I thank God daily for blessing me with the ability to tolerate my physical existence in a relatively unchanged manner. I do tire more easily than I used to; but, hey, I work full-time and I'm a 45-year-old mother of a toddler. My short-term memory is not always dependable; but, hey, I work full-time and I'm a 45-year-old mother of a toddler. Headaches plague me more often than they used to; but, hey you get the picture.
 

  No, I am not making light of this increasingly publicized disease. I live with it and do my best to avoid the reality of what my future holds. I admit that I do not attend support group meetings as I found them depressing and, even more, did not feel worthy of being in the presence of MS victims who were so much further advanced in the disease than I.
I have never attended a teleconference, although I am told that they are extremely informative. I read informational pamphlets and believe in keeping informed about the disease, but I have not felt it necessary to bombard myself with medical reports and advancements.
 I am on this earth for the express purpose of raising my child as normally as possible. Between God and the common sense He gave me, I plan to do just that with the additional assistance of my prescribed Beta Seron, occasional exercise, adequate rest, lots of water, prayer and the support of my family and a few good friends. I did not come to these conclusions quickly or easily. I lived with MS for nearly a year before I could accept the diagnosis calmly. Even now it is difficult to remember how my life changed.
             Six months after the birth of my only child, I set out for a morning stroll to the public library, child in tow. Upon our half-mile return I noticed that the left side of my face was numb and I could not feel my lips at all. My left foot refused to follow its counterpart and my left hand could not grip the stroller handle. During my pregnancy I had continued a strenuous exercise regime of daily walks up to three miles a day, so I ruled out physical exertion as a problem.

    Within two blocks of my house, at a busy intersection, baby sleeping innocently, my anxiety level nearly drove me to what I could still feel of my knees. I had to get home. I had to get my child inside. And I had to find some help. My only doctor at the time was my gynecologist and deliverer of my son. A visit to him confirmed that my condition as something more than being a middle-aged mother. He recommended me to a nearby neurological center where I spent the next week being scanned, prodded, stressed, tested, x-rayed - everything short of a good old-fashioned bloodletting.
         My mother was out of town and I didn't want to worry my father. I had an infant son who needed care and I had no idea where to turn. I have never felt such frustration and humiliation as that of making babysitting arrangements over the hospital phone.
      I couldn't even dial the numbers. My fingers were so numb that a nurse had to dial and hold the receiver for me. My speech even slurred and was difficult to follow. Thank God for a good friend who did not accuse me of intoxication and who actually took leave from work to care for my son.
        Three days and two spinal taps later, I got the verdict that no, it wasn't a stroke and, yes, my heart was fine. MS was most likely the culprit.
      Now, here was my dilemma. I had yet to discern between those mysterious M diseases: MS and MD. I knew they were neurological, but that's about it. At that point I had to make a decision. Do I throw in the towel or do I learn more about my condition and work up a good fight for a positive recovery?
       I was diagnosed in July 2001. For the remainder of the summer I concentrated on learning to walk again (I couldn't even crawl upon my return home from the hospital) and with some excellent occupational and physical therapy, I could once again grip a rubber ball with my left hand. I was nervous about returning to work in September as a public school teacher but realized that maybe my cane would be an interesting, if not eccentric, novelty for my students to discuss. As it turned out, that necessary walking tool was to be the first step in my own personal plan. The art room is directly across the hall from my language arts classroom, and in that art room many wonderful projects emerge. With unnecessary modesty I approached the art teacher with an idea for a cross-curricular group activity. Decorate my cane. Make it beautiful. Make it meaningful. And they did. My own language students enrolled in art that grading period painstakingly painted, carved and monogrammed my cane into a piece of art. They even waterproofed it!
     Thank goodness that I only needed that cane for a couple of months into the opening of school, but it is always nearby as a reminder of the beauty that can emerge from disaster.
      Yes, beauty, I said. Don't get me wrong. I don't live in a Utopia. Yet MS has introduced me to the humility required to live a fulfilled and blessed life. And in this lesson I have found the beauty of choice. I choose to live successfully in the light of MS rather than in the darkness of the depression it could spawn.
    We Americans live too fast. We refuse to allow others to help us, and often the load of our full plates is overwhelming. God did not intend (I don't think) for His creations to be so self-righteous that we take on the weight of the world. I called that friend and she was grateful to be of help when I needed care for my child. I asked for a favor in painting my cane and, thus, gave an art class purpose and a few extra bonus points. I now owed it to myself to retain the lessons from these actions and apply this knowledge to the rest of my MS life.
      I do not know how this became as easy as it did, but I decided it is just not my job to worry any more. I am in God's hands and that is where I intend to remain. There is nothing so important that it cannot wait and if there is urgency, place that activity number one on your priority list.
     I know it is unreasonable to ask a normally anxiety ridden individual to unburden herself of those time wasting anxieties like whether I'm imposing on people when I ask for help or having to ask for help at all, yet that is what needs to be done. Life goes on and I want to be traveling with it rather than against it. I try to attend church on a regular basis. If I'm out of town on Sunday I find a moment to close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and be grateful for the blessings that fill my life.
 

      I work hard at being the best schoolteacher I can be, but I don't let work rule me. I admittedly am a taskmaster and must have a project occupying my time, but I finally decided that I must prioritize those projects and refuse to take on more than my nerves can handle.
 Exercise is essential for a MS patient. I walk whenever I get the chance. The more flexible I am, the better my balance. But I keep it slow. I stay near a wall, push a shopping cart, hold someone's hand or take a walking stick with me just to keep me grounded.
     Don't expect people to understand what you are experiencing, because they cannot. In my situation my friends truly do not think about my disease since there really are few physical signs to remind them. Once in a while I might suggest that I am more tired than usual or that it's "shot" night, and immediately concern is voiced; consequently, I try not to mention such reminders unless absolutely necessary. There is always the chance that I may become a burden to someone in the future, but until then I will do this on my own time and expect no favors from other people.
     There are times, don't get me wrong, when I just cannot imagine a lower existence. Rather than giving in to the darkness I try to calmly eliminate all negativity. I take my son to daycare. I give myself a personal day at home. I treat myself to a pot of herbal tea and a good book or I dive into serious housecleaning. I keep busy, whether mentally or physically. And I pray.
 
 My plan is to exist as fully as possible without allowing unnecessary worry to infiltrate my life. I do what I can, when I can, with whom I can. I am a middle-aged, middle income, single mother with a disease. Big deal.
My life's situation could be much worse, and the mystery of MS secures a consistent change in my future. I'll deal with that when I get to it. If I can be an inspiration to another MS victim or a friend to someone more advanced in the disease than I, my blessings have been financed.


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