This week has been MS Awareness Week, and I’ve been dealing with a lot of “shoulds”. I should do my part to increase awareness. I should do my part to get others involved in the fight. I should educate others by educating folks on a daily basis, so the blog should have a lot of new entries this week. But I didn’t.
You see, I’m like Caesar, and I beware the Ides of March – March 15. That was the day that sealed his doom. That was the day that changed my life forever. On March 15, 2002, I was told that the tests confirmed that I have multiple sclerosis.
Time should heal. But I still remember so many of details of that day. I remember sitting in the neurologist’s waiting room holding a big envelope containing my MRI results. I remember letting curiosity getting the better of me and reading the radiologist’s note, where he stated that the scan confirmed MS. I remember walking into the doctor’s office, handing him the films, and admitting I had read the note. I told him what the neurologist wrote, and he quietly agreed.
My first feeling was relief. What was bothering me had a name. Earlier in the week, my neurologist had told me that I may have a tumor or lymphoma, which made my husband and I wish for MS. After looking at the scan, the neurologist told me that he had earlier told a man that he had MS and a tumor, and I was relieved that I didn’t get that news. I didn’t get a death sentence that day. All I got was a comment from my neurologist that I could take 2 years off my life expectancy.
Then something that was kind of cool happened. Well, creepy but cool. My neurologist took me out to a light machine so that we could look at my MRIs, and he could explain why they pointed to MS. I couldn’t help but enjoy having this fascinating look at my head. The MRI had taken pictures of slices of my brain from two different angles. I remember how cool my eyeballs looked in those pictures. I remember being shown the signs of previous attacks, and the current attack on my optic nerve. I also remember him showing me three feather-like lesions, which he said were clear indicators of MS. I also remember the kindness of the neurologist, offering to meet with my husband or any family members to educate them on multiple sclerosis.
The rest of the day was a daze. I called my husband to confirm the diagnosis. I talked to family. And then I wanted to do something, anything, that would give me some control, a sign that there were still some things that I controlled. I got on the computer and joined the National MS Society. I figured if this illness was going to be part of my life, I better get involved with people who understood more about living with the disease and knew more about it than I did.
Then I registered for the MS Walk that was only weeks away. There was a 5k route and a 9k route. I had planned to do the 5k, but when I got to the loop where I could walk longer, I turned and did the extra 4k. With my current mobility issues, I’m still amazed when I drive along the course route and realized I walked that whole thing.
I remember walking beside a couple of nurses who were fascinated when they found out I had only been diagnosed a few weeks before the walk but was out there walking. They were impressed by my level of energy and completely understood when I said I had to do SOMETHING. That was when I realized that through my own personal experiences I could educate others about what multiple sclerosis and what sort of things I could still do despite the illness.
I should have written this yesterday, but I couldn’t. Eleven years later, I’m still feeling so exposed and raw when March 15th rolls around.I see what I can no longer do, but then I realize the most important thing: I’m still me.